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Jun
25
I’m probably going to keep saying thank you for the kind comments, over and over. It means so much to me to read them, and I appreciate you guys so much.
I almost had a blogging breakdown earlier this week. I wondered why can’t I just blog and ignore my real life. Why can’t I just write fluffy, happy stuff and pretend that the sun always shines, just for a blog post. But I can’t. I don’t blog to be “fluffy”, I blog for me and hopefully for a few others, but more than that, I’ve committed to blogging “real”. Not fluff. I was really considering shutting it down, because I can’t be fake and I don’t like my reality right now.
I don’t feel like blogging real right now. To be honest, I don’t feel like doing anything. I feel myself slipping back to depression; for a while I felt like I was moving in the opposite direction, but the events of the past few weeks have just overwhelmed me. I can’t sleep, I’m anxious and distracted, I can’t eat, I can’t focus. And the thought of trying to write a semi decent blog post makes me even more stressed. I love blogging, and I don’t want to do it if it feels like a chore. I want to enjoy it, and then maybe people might enjoy what I write.
I’m trying to balance my family, my summer classes, and my jobs with going back and forth to be with my parents while my dad is in the hospital. I’m also trying to manage the worries that are overtaking me right now, and I’m not doing a good job of that. I’m just not good at juggling too many things; I wish I was. I wish my emotions didn’t take over and make me feel fragile and jittery right when I need to be strong and stoic. I wish there were about 10 more hours in the day.
I’m going to try to peek in here at least once a week; I finally felt like I was becoming part of a blogging community and I hate to take a break from that. But something has to give right now, til I figure out what I need to do for me.
I know many of you are struggling with different things right now, too, so please know that while I may not have responded to emails yet, I am thinking of and praying for all of you. And I always, always welcome and appreciate your prayers and kind words.
I am trying to get caught up here even if I’m not blogging. I am going to email the winners of the giveaways from earlier this month today, and I’ll post the winners’ names here when I’ve heard back from all of them. I haven’t forgotten that, it just got pushed back on my list of things to do.
I hope everyone is having a great summer. And I really hope you all will be here when I get my head on straight and can start posting again regularly.
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May
26
I don’t know if I’ll publish this post. I’m not in the best frame of mind to even be writing. But isn’t that the point of writing?
Life is beating me down. Every time I think I’ve got to be as low as I can go, the beating continues. The story of my life right now is a nightmare of epic proportions, so horrible it borders on funny, in a sick kind of way of course.
You all know about my parenting drama this week, so I won’t go into that. Just be aware that the parenting stuff alone was enough to put me on the brink of losing my mind. So the rest of this stuff on top of it? Right over the edge.
My car has been in the shop for some repairs that were supposed to be covered by warranty. Once the mechanic got under the hood, more repairs were deemed necessary, which aren’t covered by warranty but of course must.be.done.
In the middle of school assemblies, concerts, performances and parties, my garage door broke. I couldn’t get my car out (the lovely loaner car from the mechanic). Since we live pretty close to both my kids’ schools, I was able to walk to their events. But that’s about all I’ve gotten done. Apparently it is the season for garage door problems, because I called every place in a 50 mile radius and they are all booked up for two days or more. Who knew the garage door business was so lucrative??
My son’s phone broke. I know this isn’t a big deal when you look at the big picture, but with my summer classes starting, I need him to have a phone. Just one.more.thing.
On a totally different level, my dad is having more health problems. He has a ton of them already, but this new one is of the “could be benign, or not” variety. They meet with the surgeon next week and we’ll plan from there. I know I don’t need to ask, but prayers, please.
I would give anything to be able to spend some time with them and be there during the surgery, but I don’t get any paid time off from work, so right now it looks impossible. That just adds frustration to an already stressful situation.
There’s more that has gone wrong in the past week, minor things that all piled together make a mountain that I’m struggling to climb.
As a final insult, my husband decided that since today was the last day of school, it would be a great time to let our youngest son invite several friends to sleep over. Sigh. I know he’s right to do that, because regardless of the muck I am trying to wade through, the kids don’t need to be affected by it. I just need to put my happy face on for them, and I’m having a hard time doing that right now.
Join with me in repeating this mantra: It HAS to get better. Oh please, doesn’t it?
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May
18
We’ve had a few storms in the past week or two. That’s putting it mildly. Constant dark skies, raging wind, and torrents of rain. No gentle breezes here.
I’m not talking about the weather.
I hid out today. Stayed off the computer until now. Never once checked Twitter. Joining the online party was just too much, and I couldn’t do it today.
I know that sometimes things have to get worse before they get better. You have to survive the storms before you can see the sun. I know this, but I really, really want the storms to end. I can’t find any shelter right now, I’m just stuck in the middle of it, trying to stay on dry ground.
I keep telling myself that once my rainy season ends, the sun is going to shine so brightly, and the rainbows will be so beautiful, that the pain of the storms will fade. Because it has to stop storming sometime. Right?
Even in the midst of the storms that are wreaking havoc on my world, I was reminded today of how the smallest kind gesture can make such a huge difference. I was talking on the phone with a woman I work for. I don’t know her, I work from home so I’ve never “met” my coworkers. And this woman only calls when we’ve made a mistake. It wasn’t a serious mistake, but it needed to be brought to my attention in a more memorable way than email. So she called. She wasn’t angry at all, but she came across as exasperated. I’m sure that she had many other phone calls to make and many other fires to put out, but at the time, I took her exasperation as my fault. My failure.
There must have been something in my voice, a hint of the storms that are chasing me, because out of nowhere, her voice softened and she asked if I was okay.
The floodgates opened wide. Forget that she is my superior. Forget that I’m 41 years old. Forget that I don’t even know her. I bawled like a baby. I tried not to, but as soon as she heard the first sniffles, she kept being nice. She kept saying, honey, it’s going to be okay. The more she talked, the more I cried. Even in all the storms, I have managed to not break down, to not let it all out. Well, it all came out during that call. I needed that cry so badly.
There was no real conversation; I don’t know her well enough to spill my guts, and I don’t think she wanted that. She just wanted me to know it would be okay.
I don’t know when it will be okay. I do know that her words helped me get through this dark stormy day. We can all do what she did on the phone today. We can listen. Listen for the crack in the composure. Listen for the aching heart. Listen for the sadness. Respond to that. It is enough, no, it is so much more than enough, to just listen and encourage. Listen and offer hope where there is none.
Provide shelter from the storm, even if only for a short time. We can all do that.
This post is linked at Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky
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May
13
“Be yourself. Above all, let who you are, what you are, what you believe, shine through every sentence you write, every piece you finish.” ~John Jakes
“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.“ ~ Dr. Seuss
When I started this blog over two years ago, I just wanted a place to write. A place to share parenting struggles and my midlife struggles. I clearly had no clue what I was doing, because I would write, hit publish, and wait for people to visit -lol. Little by little I’ve kind of figured out this medium called blogging, but it’s taken me this long to get an idea of my place in it.
I have struggled to find my voice here, find a niche, for lack of a better word. I still don’t think I have a specific niche, because this blog is all over the place. But I feel like I am finding my voice. It was discouraging for me to try to be a little miss sunshine, and always project that my life was FULL of moments of bliss. If you take out the trials and struggles and only write about the awesomeness of your life, well, sometimes there’s nothing to write about.
I’ve let go of that ideal, so now my writing is pretty honest, and I’m getting closer to finding my voice. But that’s not enough.
The closer I get to finding my voice, the more I decide that my voice isn’t good enough. Oh that’s the story of my life! Not funny enough, not witty enough, not eloquent enough, not enough anything. I took a bit of a blogging break last year, and since I’ve rejoined the land of the living recently, I’ve been more active on Twitter and I’ve found a ton of new blogs that I love. I find more every day. And with every new one, I quietly think to myself, wow, I wish I could write like her. Or her. Or any of them, just not me.
Then I think, if there are all these really amazing writers and bloggers here, there really is no need for the mediocrity that is my writing and blog. What’s the point, really, when you can read things that move your heart, motivate your spirit, and crack you up.
This goes far beyond writing; it permeates every piece of my life. This is low self esteem and lack of self confidence at its worst. Comparing myself to others and falling short every.single.time. I do it with my homemaking, with parenting, at school, and now with blogging. Not good enough, ever.
I’m going to fight this. I want to keep writing; it’s good for me, and that should be enough. I want to stop comparing everything I do and deciding that I fall short of the standard. There is no standard; what I do is good enough. I will come to believe that, because at 41 years old, its time that I let myself appreciate what I can do instead of focus on what I can’t do.
Finding my voice has been huge for me. I’ve given myself permission to write honestly and to share more openly. I’ve gotten so many emails from people thanking me for sharing, and they feel comfortable sharing their struggles with me because I’ve been honest. That’s a great feeling, and it will hopefully lead to true relationships.
Finding my voice is not enough. I have to learn to love my voice. To love what I have to offer. To let that be enough.
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May
10
I’m really not intentionally writing all these “confession of the soul” type posts. I’m actually trying to write what is in my heart, instead of a bunch of chatter just to fill the space. So this is what we have for now.
Supposedly we all have a “fight or flight” response when faced with stress and danger. I apparently am the exception to this. I have a “withdraw” response when faced with extreme stress or anxiety. I’d like to run away, but you can’t run away from life. I either don’t know how to fight whatever I’m afraid or, or I’m just too tired to fight. So I withdraw.
I do this with everyone, friends, family, my husband. I try very hard not to do it with my kids, and for the most part, I succeed. But my oldest is getting too good at reading me, so I have to work harder at hiding my worries from him.
When I withdraw like this, I don’t want to see people or talk to people. I don’t want to go out; it’s so much easier to stay home and wallow in my worry. Not helpful, but easier.
This is not a healthy response, and I know that. But the worst part is that when I’m scared or stressed about something in my life, the more scared I get, the more I withdraw from God. I lose faith in my faith. I give up on hope; I stop trusting. This just empties out my soul, leaving me with nothing but despair.
My world without hope or faith is a dark, lonely world. Without hope, I can’t find any light. I can’t find anything to cling to.
I don’t withdraw because I doubt. I don’t doubt that He loves me. I don’t blame Him for my problems. This is more about self-doubt. I stop believing that I am worthy of His love and His grace. I start to think that I don’t even deserve to pray for help. I start believing that I deserve the dark place I have put myself in, and I stop looking for the light.
I’ve been in that dark place many times, and it’s so hard to get out of it. I have been fighting it for awhile now, fighting it because I know once I get in the bottom of the that pit, I won’t be able to climb out for a long time. I went to church with my family yesterday, but I was going through the motions. Pretending that I belonged there, pretending that He wanted me there. Because it is dark where I’m at right now, and I feel myself sliding down.
Clearly He wants my there every day, but yesterday especially. Our priest seemed to have gotten a memo about what I needed to hear to help bring me back from the darkness. He talked about how we all battle with faith at times, even him. He said that when we give up the battle; when we close the door to the Holy Spirit, there is no wind in our worship. There is no praise in our song. There is no hope in our hearts. But all we have to do is open the door. One simple step.
In reality, it is not a simple step. The door is shut tight and it is heavy. It’s simpler and easier to leave it closed and stay in the darkness.
I don’t want to be in the darkness. I don’t want to shut the door to hope, to faith, or to Him. There is no life without light.
Opening the door to faith doesn’t mean my problems are going to end. I know that. But it does mean that I can trust that I’m not walking this road alone. He’s not leading me down a path to darkness and despair. If I let Him, He will lead me home. I just have to trust and have faith enough to follow.
This is the journey I’m on. Is the road you’re on right now rough and rocky, too? Do you withdraw when faced with seemingly insurmountable problems? I hope we can share and encourage each other; it’s much easier when we know we’re not traveling our path alone.
This post is linked at Chatting at the Sky: Tuesdays Unwrapped
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May
7
As a child, I knew my parents loved me. What I wasn’t sure about was whether or not they liked me, and that became a very important distinction.
In honor of Mother’s Day, I want to share some of the things I like about my sons. Someday I will share this with them, when they’re old enough to not be absolutely mortified by this display of motherly mushiness. I want it written down because it’s very important to me that they know why I like them so much.
Tanner ~ Firstborn. Child with my spirit. You are funny, witty, and bright. You are quick with a joke and finally the jokes make sense. You are insightful; you know when a sharp word is hiding a secret hurt. You are able to talk to adults on their level; respectfully and intelligently. This brings me great joy. You know how to be polite, and nothing makes me happier when you respond to my often asked “How are you” with a “How are you” of your own. You are creative, unlike your mama, which also brings me joy. You are tender hearted, and you have a special affinity for getting along with little children. They adore you, and so do I. I see your heart under the teenage bluster; I see the man you will become. He is a good man. Stay on this path and trust yourself. I am walking with you, but you already know the way.
Nolan ~ Second born. Child so much like your father. From the beginning, my serious boy. Everything you are that I am not, I envy. Such a quick learner; everything seems to come easily for you. Always the hard worker, I depend on you so much. After years of being quiet, staying in the shadow of the firstborn, you are starting to find yourself. I love that you are finally becoming comfortable with the fact that it is okay to be different from your brother. Your sense of humor is emerging, and you are hysterical. I absolutely love it when you zing your brother at the dinner table. Still completely unexpected; so he sits there with his mouth hanging open. You were born with the gift of self confidence; hold onto that always. Talented athlete, so unlike me. You are also very smart; don’t let anyone tell you differently. I love watching your personality bloom as you become less of a homebody. As different as we are, know that you are just as much me as your brother is. I catch glimpses of me in your words and actions and my heart beams. Keep following your own path child, and I will be on it with you.
I love you both because you are my sons. I like you both because of what is in your hearts.
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May
7
I should not be writing at this time of night. That kind of thing never ends well.
If you’ve been reading this blog for more than a week, you might have realized that I am trying to be more “real”, more authentic, more honest. Honesty is not always pretty. Just warning ya.
This is starting to become a routine for me. It’s late at night, my family has been in bed for over an hour. The husband is deep in snoreland, so I know it’s safe to do something I would never do in front of him. Something I have never even told anyone about.
What am I doing late at night that is so shocking and embarrassing that I would die if my husband found out? Sigh. I’m eating. That’s right, eating.
I know you’re probably all scratching your head and asking what’s so bad about that…you are doing that, right? Anyway. What’s so bad about it is that I’m eating junk food at 11pm or later, and that’s not going to help me in my quest to live healthier.
Last fall I had some serious health problems pop up, and since then I take about seven different medications every day. I don’t know why, but the combination of medicine absolutely kills my appetite. I know this isn’t healthy either, but I’m not hungry at all during the day, and I normally don’t even try to eat anything until dinner, around 6pm. Even by then, I’m not hungry and may be able to force down only a tiny bit of whatever we’re eating.
I can feel that this is not good for me; even though I don’t feel hungry, I can tell by mid afternoon that my body needs nourishment. I might try to have a banana or some cheese and crackers, but it’s more than not being hungry. I cannot force it down; I just can’t eat.
I usually stay up pretty late finishing homework or working until after midnight. And then it starts. I still don’t feel hungry, but by this late hour I have regained my will to eat. It’s not really boredom, because I’m busy. It’s more like I eat to keep myself awake. If I just sit here and read my school assignment or stare at the computer, my eyelids get heavy and my head starts to drop. Hard to do that when you’re digging into some chips and salsa.
This is a huge problem. Eating this late at night makes me feel just as bad as not eating throughout the day. It’s impossible to sleep on such a full stomach – full of junk, at that, so I stay up later and am tired the next day. It’s a vicious cycle, and I’m trying to stop.
I decided that I just wasn’t going to buy any snacks that I like. My sons are growing boys, so we have lots of healthy snacks for them. That’s not what I’m going for at 11pm. I won’t reach for fruit or granola when I have the late night munchies, nooo I won’t. I’m grabbing the salty and crunchy good stuff. Then in the morning I am bloaty and cranky from all the salty and crunchy. Like I said, vicious cycle.
I do pretty good when I just don’t buy the stuff I like. But even that is a battle of my will versus my inner snack monster. When I’m at the store some invisible magnetic force pulls me against my will to the chip aisle. As hard as I fight it, chips, salsa and basically anything crunchy ends up in my cart! Before I know it, I’ve paid for the junk and brought it home. It’s like I’m possessed!
There you have it. Real, authentic, honest. Painfully honest. Can you help me overcome this affliction? And if not, can you at least tell me your secret, shameful vice? I don’t want to be all alone with my secrets here.
For more Friday Fails visit My Blessed Life.
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May
5
My life was forever altered by a baby boy.
I had big plans. I had finished my first year of law school, but my then boyfriend and I were tired of the long distance relationship after five years of seeing each other only on weekends. So I decided to take a year or two off from school. This decision was met with extreme opposition from most of my friends. Why should I quit school for a guy? It would never work; I would never be able to go back. Marriage can wait, school can’t. I heard it all, but by the time I spoke out loud what I wanted to do, it was already a done deal in my heart.
We would get married, he would finish his master’s program, then he could transfer to the closest town with a law school. If he couldn’t transfer, then I would drive back and forth to school in the part time program. It was very doable, and we were committed to that plan. I loved law school, and I had no intention of not finishing.
Which leads me to ask, do we choose the paths we take, or are they chosen for us?
Things went according to our plan for awhile. We got married and he worked on his master’s. I called the two closest law schools and got the necessary paperwork so when he graduated I would be ready. I was following my chosen path.
Three months after we got married I found out I was pregnant. This was such a shock to me that when the doctor’s office called and confirmed it, I left my job and drove to the university where he was studying for his exams. I had no idea where he was; I had never attended his university. But I searched the parking lots until I found his car, and finally I found him. He thought I had dropped by over my lunch hour to give him some support and encouragement.
Instead, I gave him the news that would change the path of both our lives forever. We were going to have a baby.
It takes a lot to render my guy speechless, but that did it. All we could do was hug. And cry.
Tears of absolute joy and unabashed happiness. Tears of wonder at God’s blessings for us.
Our families were happy for us, but the unspoken words were of concern and worry. We were young and poor, and without mentioning it, everyone wondered about our “master plan” for me to go back to school. I still believed it could be done, just a year later than planned and definitely part time. I still made phone calls and filled out paperwork.
One month after my husband completed his master’s degree, our baby boy was born. And a door closed forever.
I was completely in love with that baby before I ever saw him, but when I looked into his eyes for the first time, eyes almost identical to my own, my heart cracked wide open. Nothing else mattered but our little family.
I never went back to law school. It took me 14 years to go back to school for my master’s degree, down a completely different path than I ever planned. I have never looked back with regret. Only thankfulness that God chose me to be the mother of that baby boy. Thankful that He had the best path for me, even though it was radically different than the path I had chosen. So thankful.
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May
3
I never thought I’d say this, but I’m so glad it’s Monday! I had a rough weekend, to put it mildly. I just felt broken, and there was no particular reason or event that knocked me down, I was just down.
I’m picking myself up today and moving onward and upward. The sun is shining here, no rain in sight (at least for today) and it’s a new week. That’s gotta be good.
As a result of my emotionally draining weekend, I’ve got blogger’s block today. I got nothin’ to say. Maybe I shouldn’t post just to say that, huh 
Actually I have a few small, insignificant things to say. Today is the last day to enter to win the Apple iPod touch. Now that is exciting!
Also, since we’re talking about giveaways. I completely missed my two year blogging anniversary in April. I knew it was in April, but April was not a kind month, and I just missed it. This is a big deal to me!! So I’m going to have a redo and claim this week as my blogging anniversary week. Not today, not with my blogger’s block problem, but starting tomorrow we will have a week full of celebrations and fun! The anniversary celebration will kick off with, gasp, another giveaway! We love those. I’m actually not even sure myself yet what I will be giving away, but it will be good.
In an unforeseen but very welcome bit of good fortune, I seem to have found a local-ish sponsor who wants to see my blog grow. They expressed interest in donating something for a giveaway here, and after I wiped the shocked expression off my face and resisted the urge to ask “Are you kidding me??” I graciously said I would love that. So after I hear from my new found sponsor and find out how they want to do this, I will post the giveaway tomorrow. Plan on celebrating with me this week, puleeze
See, the sun does shine even through the clouds. Let’s clear out the cobwebs from the weekend and make this a great week.
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May
1
Recently I asked a question in a Blog Frog community about what brings you back to blogs. What makes you “like” a blog enough to read it again and again. The overwhelming majority, okay all, the answers stated that authenticity is the most important thing. Honesty.
That is scary for me. I’ve closed off a big part of my life to almost everyone except my husband. I keep my hurts to myself. I pretend. Is that dishonest? I don’t think it’s dishonest, but it’s certainly not authentic.
It’s dark today. Outside and in my heart. Probably darker in my heart. I’m hoping that by writing and letting some of the darkness out, I’ll make room for some sunshine. This is me at my most honest and authentic.
I love following the comments I get and finding new blogs to read that way. This morning I found Fearing We’ll Out Sin Grace on Stuff Christians Like from another blogger’s Saturday Stumble list. It would have been on my list of Must Reads if I had found it in time. Do you ever read something and find yourself asking, do they know me, were they writing about me? That’s what happened this morning when I read that.
I believe in a kind, loving God. I don’t think He is a punishing God. But can we go too far, ask too much, “out sin” His grace?
I think I’m a good person. I try to be kind and polite and helpful. I’d help more if I could, and I look forward to the day when I can. But I’m a little fish. I’m not a big player, I can’t change the world or make people’s lives better.
I have read a lot of books by Norman Vincent Peale about the power of positive thinking. I do believe that your attitude helps to determine your path. But I also have a hard time believing that positive thinking can improve every situation. Take that a step further, and I sometimes have a hard time believing that prayer will help my situation.
Positive thinking helps the thinker focus on the positive. Which helps keep you from falling into an abyss of darkness, and that is good. Being in that abyss doesn’t help anyone, and too often I get stuck there.
There are usually two ways that something can go. A health problem could be big or small. A necessary repair could be minor or major. A needed medication could be covered by insurance or not. A crisis could be averted or full blown. Positive thinking really can’t change any of those outcomes. I have tried the positive thinking route, but still the health problems have been big, the necessary repairs have been major, the medications haven’t been covered, and the crisis has not been averted. I couldn’t and can’t change that with my attitude.
I wonder sometimes if God ~ who I know loves me ~ might just have my calls on mute, so to speak. A small fish with insignificant problems, especially when I know so many others are struggling and suffering right now. I know my life isn’t remarkable, the things I have gone through and am going through aren’t remarkable. It’s just life. How much can I ask Him for? How many times can I cry out for help? How many miracles can I ask for?
When I get stuck in this dark abyss, I stop asking Him for help. I stop hoping, trusting, and believing. I stop having faith. Not because I don’t have faith in His goodness, but because I stop believing that I am worthy of goodness or grace. I give up, not on Him, but on me. I give up on the idea that I deserve for good things to happen to me. I give up on positive thoughts.
It’s dark today in my heart. In the dark of night I heard a knock, and even though I know better, I opened the door to worry, hopelessness, fear, and despair. I let them in, and they are working hard to take down any hope and faith that I had.
I have gotten some heartfelt emails from readers who are in their own dark abyss right now, and I just wanted to throw it out here that I love getting those emails. We all have struggles, and while I know I won’t have any answers for anyone, I am more than happy to pray for you and hold onto hope for you. Sometimes sharing your burdens helps a lot, so please email me at unexpectedblissmail at gmail dot com if you want to share or just ask for a prayer. I can do that.
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My boys
Where did those little guys go?Cuteness overload
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