Home Projects And Making The Best Of What You Have

I would never call anything in my house besides maybe a paint color, "decor" or how I would choose to "decorate." I work with what I have. Carefully and repeatedly. I am the queen of reuse and re-purpose, time and again.

I wouldn't say we do a great deal of "home projects," per say, but I would say that I clean and rearrange things often. I always feel like a small little lift or change can bring new life to an old set-up. In a perfect world I would have disposable income to go to Ikea or Rooms To Go and buy whatever my heart desires. This is not my reality.

This past month has been a lot of humbling realizations. When shopping for a wedding I stopped stressing about what I didn't have and decided to work with what I did. This weekend was another lesson in that.

My husband had repaired and changed out our bathroom fan last year and since then we've had a bit of a moisture issue in our attached closet. I got the little dehumidifier, I use DampRid often, it gave me a great excuse for a purge and I use Febreeze a lot as well. Eventually we need a better fan but this year, every time I think we can go drop the $150 on it, something else comes up. 

There began to be a mold problem...on the shoes. To be clear, I don't have nice things. Most of what I own can be easily washed so, there's that, but there are a couple pairs of boots and nice shoes that I couldn't just watch become yucky.

I have a cube shelf I built from Target like 3 or 4 years ago that has been used for everything. We've had it in the kitchen, the closet, the living room and so on and it has lasted most in my closet for my clothes and shoes. The other day when I was cleaning it came to me, the decorative vision. Whoa.

If I moved the shelf into the entryway and added another rack to hang things it could be a make-shift mud room entrance thing and keep ALL the shoes in the front. No shoes in rooms, just in the shoe station. With extra hangers we would have space for gym bags, hats purses, oh my. I wonder if the husband would go for it.

I gave my husband the play by play. I would use a toy bin in the closet, toys would go in baskets on shelf, shoes would all live in the shoe bins in the front of the house. He went for it. We moved around some other things too, including a chore board for the kiddo. It didn't even take that long, nor was it much of a pain. I was happy enough with the result to share immediately on Instagram.

The whole success of the day got me thinking about how much we lack using the resources we have, and how we are so quick to buy or obtain some kind of other solution than using what's in front of us. How many times do we get upset and overwhelmed, or should I ask, how many times do I get upset and overwhelmed over not being able to "afford" things, when I have the tools and resources around me?

This can go a long way. You can get something used. You could ask a friend or Facebook or Instagram grouping if they have something to be rid of you need or know of anyone purging things you may need. Use what is in front of you! Make the best of what you have! Also, if it ain't broke don't fix it!

We get caught up a lot in commercials and social ideas of how things should look so we start to get down on our own set ups. Do you know what a coat of paint can do? It can completely transform a space or piece of furniture, and quickly. 

I've gone through phases of loving home projects and hating them all the same, but I think, much as with everything, everything has a season. With Florida Fall in full swing I saw this seasonal change in more ways than one. Friday night my daughter asked to be taken to Third Friday, which is a monthly event in our town with food, vendors and music. We hadn't been, maybe in a year.

Why? My daughter would complain about walking the strip. She would want treats and would need to stop to pet every dog. She wouldn't listen and it would always end up in meltdown. This year I fed her dinner and said, "One treat." She didn't complain about walking and she made very good compromises and listened well. She did pet all the dogs and hugged all her school friends. She had a blast and I felt happy that she did so well. This is her season of showing me she's grown and being able to do more.

Maybe I'm in a season where I can see the beginnings and ends of fair, doable projects. Maybe I'm in the season where they don't bum me out or overwhelm me because I have people in my way or someone telling me I can't. Maybe this is becoming my time to do more. 

I work hard to make sure that I make the very best of what I have. I remind my husband often that we are lucky to have what we do and we should stay grateful. My daughter has been talking about missing our old rental house and I just try and respond kindly reminding her that we made great memories there but we now have our own space to do anything we want with and needed a bigger better home. She's getting there I think.

Life is difficult. Life is stressful and exhausting. We put a lot of "extra" on ourselves. Perhaps this can be a season of less being more. I for one am exploring this idea to the fullest and can't wait to see where it takes us!

Stormy Morning Slowdown - Self Love And Self Appreciation

Let me just preface this with the fact that I rarely know what I'm going to blog about, let alone get excited about it. There are so many days that the page stays blank and the cursor taunts me until I get going. Today was completely different and I knew exactly what I wanted to talk about. 

So, I've been writing a lot (perhaps too much) about self love, self appreciation and healing. This morning happened upon a lesson in all of the above and at 5AM for all times. I've recently taken to double work outs. So I'm up at 5 for 30 minutes at 9Rounds, then I get ready for work and pack clothes to run or use the elliptical on my lunch break, maybe add in some more abs or weights as well. It's helped a lot with my confidence and energy. 

I realized that I never regret my early morning workout but I always regret skipping it for extra sleep. I just operate best if Monday through Friday I'm up at the same time and with the same routine. This morning I woke up to my alarm groggy; I could tell I didn't sleep well my last couple hours. I got up and got dressed and went to feed the dog. I heard thunder and shrugged it off. When I walked into the kitchen it was thundering louder, there were faint flashes and it was pouring.

I paused and looked at the "clean" dishwasher light and remembered I had laundry to fold as the rain got worse. I thought to myself, "I can miss this morning, fold laundry and put away dishes, still work out on lunch, oh and watch the Big Little Lies finale with a fresh cup of coffee!" And that is exactly what I did.

What is fresh and new for me, what makes this all blog-worthy is that is I haven't been berating myself mentally over and over for missing the workout. I even had one of my closest friends give me "permission" for a rest day. I'm recently really sensitive about my rest days. I reserve them for the weekend because Saturdays are super busy and Sundays my gym is closed and I always hope to be more calm. Not hating or punishing myself for indulging in a little rest is new, but also really nice. I'm attributing this to some growth and healing.

I have a big weekend looming as I'm taking on two extra children for my household and I'm not going to pretend I'm not slightly stressed and anxious but I also am not being negative about it or dreading it. I'm fully capable and looking forward to getting them out and having fun with them all. It's also new that I'm saying yes to things that normally I would shy away from and setting more fun boundaries with other things. My inner dialogue has been more positive and succinct. I like it.

The stormy morning forced me to just stop and slow down. I have dreams for a porch re-do one day and I thought, one day I can hang on the porch with coffee and enjoy those showers. I appreciated the quiet while folding laundry, completely engulfed in my show just taking it all in. I rarely take time for much of anything anymore, let alone self care and something so simple was kind of a huge deal and I felt proud for allowing myself to do it all without any mental backlash.

Self love is rough. I had a day this week where I messaged a friend saying I felt fat and flabby and was struggling and I thought maybe it was just a bad outfit choice. I was honestly impressed with my clarity about all those feelings, and that instead of "complaining" about it, desperate for some weird validation or compliments, I kind of just owned it as an off feeling day and attempted to reach out for a little support. And the reach out was well received and kind, by the way.

Self appreciation is another new thing for me. I'm slowly appreciating where I am on the journey and that I'm trying, diligently to continue the forward momentum. Falling into a negative self-loathing place is easier than staying positive and learning self-love and appreciation, in my experience, at least as of recent times. This morning was an affirmation that I'm truly on a good path with it all. That is an easy feeling to embrace on a good day, maybe not so much on an off one though.

It's a process, all of it and I'm sure I will have bad days but for today I'm keeping the goodness close and pushing through. I'm even loving the rain!

I was excited to share about this, not just because it's pleasant progress, but I think we all get so caught up in the grind and the stress of life that we forget that slow mornings filled with a little calm can do wonders for the mind, body and soul. I love that I'm not internally pouting about anything right now and am embracing things instead. I think that's a good sign for the things to come and I feel good about it all! 

An Unlikely Best Weekend

This past weekend was freedom after the plague, with no posts again. After an epic therapy session Friday, I realized that my self care game still needs some vast improvement, so if weekend posts become too daunting, why do it? I also just don't have the same easy tools at home as I do at the office. So this weekend inadvertently was the best thing ever, born out of all things unlikely.

The husband has been working 6 days a week. It's been more intense and anxiety-producing than I had imagined. I fashion myself a resilient thing, one to conquer all but I am human. Sometimes things are just crappy, but this too shall pass.

Friday came with a grocery run and grabbing the kid early then home to self care and watch some Hulu, while letting the kid veg out. Saturday was workout then horseback riding. The rest of Saturday was an unlikely success, and one that I'm weirdly proud of.

My daughter is constantly struggling with listening. I can handle a lot. My husband is touch and go with patience, especially with working so much. She was sassy from the Saturday start and I had started mentally compiling and cleaning and organization list for an afternoon at home. I had already planned an epic play date for her Sunday, and made it clear that Saturday was chill at home and get stuff done.

My original image for this was her watching movies and playing video games while I did all the things in the house. However, she had a very, very rough horseback riding lesson and lost her privileges, and that means NO technology - no TV, no tablet, no video games. This is a child's worst nightmare. We sat down to lunch and then I was ready to go. I made her go through and organize her stuff.

I decided also to reorganize my vinyl collection and rock some albums all day. I tortured my kid with my singing of Neil Diamond hits, the Beatles, Elton John, Joni Mitchell, Talking Heads, Dire Straits, and so on. When I was obnoxiously singing Neil Diamond, which I hadn't indulged in in a long time, I thought, this is the shit she will remember. She will be driving one day and hear a song and think, "God my mom used to sing this all the time." I knew this because I recently had those recurring moments and memories with my dad and my uncle Pete. Forever would I hold dear some random Sunday pilgrimage with my uncle where he ran into Wal-Mart to buy my cousins dress shoes for the fancy restaurant we would go to, and came out with a new Temptations CD and belted it out.

I made her read me the albums in organization and we talked about the artists. She helped me wipe things down and move stuff. She got really excited about making the house look nice with me, taking pride in little adjustments. She wanted to report them all to her dad later.

We took a bug hunt walk in between afternoon thunderstorms. We played in her doll house in small increments, in between projects. By 6PM she had done so much and apologized to me for her out-bursts so I let her watch Looney Tunes, also a weird kind of throwback thing, but she appreciated it. She was happy to watch and unwind.

I hadn't been that kind of productive in a long time and it felt so great. We weren't running all day doing whatever, we were cultivating home. There were no time constraints and schedules. There was no "stop and go." It was wonderful, actually.

On Sunday we had a lazy morning with the husband home a bit before running off to work, which was also fantastic. Then her little best friend came over and we did the mom chat thing and they just made messes and had fun. I was still able to reorganize and clean out drawers, finish laundry, change sheets and so on and so forth. It was completely rejuvenating.

I didn't feel like I missed out on anything or needed to go people. I didn't feel like I should go spend money or couldn't do what I wanted without spending unnecessary money. I was able to utilize what we had around and make it work. It felt empowering.

By the time I was done, so was my daughter. We both hid our productivity wall and needed to unwind. We didn't get as much family time with the husband as we would have liked but we did what we could with what we had. Last night we read some chapters together, allowing me to feel like a good mom. 

I realized how much down time I need and deserve, and how much better I do when adequately rested. I realized how well my daughter and I do when we have plans and projects, but also time to just be mom and daughter together. I realized I do really need to work on more concrete self care habits to calm my anxiety and stress levels. It was a good weekend of reflection as well.

Coming off of things being grateful, calm and rested feels long over-due, which is not to say I'm usually ungrateful, but I feel like when things are off their normal routines and you can find that happiness within a struggle, there is so much to be said for that. What a great way to kick off the holiday week!

I Love When My Kid is Sick - In A Non-Creepy Way

I literally had a conversation last weekend with a fellow parent, a dad even, and we agreed that when our kids are sick, we kinda love it. This isn't some psychotic creepy love of sickly children. We just love when they really need us. They want to just snuggle and be calm. They ask you for what they need, there is no time or energy for a tantrum about anything, and they are crazy sweet. So I don't love when my child is sick in like a Munchausen syndrome by proxy way, but more like, they finally slow down and just chill with you.

This is my Sunday, and on days like this, which I'm fortunate enough end up on weekends more often than not, I get a lot done around the house but also get time for myself to reboot. She's allowed to literally watch endless television and the dog is happy cuddling all day with someone. 

It's so funny how things work out. Usually when she's sick I go into panic mode of "I can't miss work!" But, I actually can. At my current job I'm lucky enough that I never get punished for missing work. It's pretty refreshing. Friday I just felt off and was allowed to leave work early. I literally got everything important done before I left. Everything else can usually wait and I feel so appreciative for that.

I cleaned most of the house and it's 11:15AM on a Sunday. I'm already back in my pajamas after a quick grocery store run before my husband had to go to work. I went through all of my daughter's toys and got rid of a bunch of stuff she didn't need. I reorganized a bit. I purged some stuff. I may even go through her clothes and rotate out some things today. I have some sewing that I've been neglecting also.

It's weirdly refreshing when you have time to tackle things. Of course I'll leave steam cleaning the floors last because that I just an annoying job in my opinion. However, it's nice after the week I had to have this kind of day today.

The next week has a few different kinds of anniversaries for our family and can have a lot of emotional baggage, but I'm going at them with all the positive vibes. It's so weird how after everything this weekend, and feeling so ill, and now having a sick kid, I'm somehow in this freakishly optimistic mood. Like I'm just not worried or stressing, but just happy that things are coming together.

I've made it six months of posting and Friday marks the first day I actually missed. I'm proud of that and even though two more posts will be missed shortly here, I still am impressed with myself that I haven't lost out to anything else. These are important moments. Truly. 

So, with laundry to fold, purging to do, bathrooms and floors to clean, I go forth onto this Sunday ready to rock. 

Last Minute Planning Is Now Part Of The Transitional Stages

I'm a self-proclaimed and well known planner. I like to put things on calendars, even months in advance. But with how insane my husband's schedule has been, how little my mom has been able to help, a babysitter who is increasing unavailable, and my desperateness for time away from the norm, I've recently become the master of last minute planning.

You often just have to take things one day at a time, but lately I've been able to plan things with a day's notice or even just a few hours, with much more ease than previous times. I don't think I can blame this one on my growth, but rather a product of circumstance. 

I think right now I'm so aware that things could change on a dime that I'm able to just as well plan on a dime. But I thought about everything going on the past few months, I really took some time to reflect and realized that I'm in such a different place now.

I lost touch with someone who has been there through some of the most chaotic points of my past 3 years, and whom I looked up to. In that acceptance, I've realized it's because my current chaos is new. It's not manic chaos. It's transitional chaos, if you will. And I got this!

Years ago my chaos was seriously harming me. It was impeding many aspects of my life and definitely my mental health, but now I feel like all of my chaos is negotiable. The job change for my husband was not on our current planning scheme, but you really can't plan for life much these days, as things just keep rolling with or without you, so I just sucked it up and figured out how to be supportive.

When boot camp ended it hurt my world, but I did my research and found another outlet. And I love my new gym! It's a welcome challenge that I love and embrace and something I've wanted to get into for such a long time. If I had to lose boot camp, I'm glad I have 9Rounds. 

So since March I've lost boot camp, lost touch with a friend I got used to having around more often, worked hard on myself and my close personal relationships, and watched my husband get promoted to a newer, more responsible job position, immediately yanking him away from normal aspects of family routines.

The job transition has been rough, but I've tried to just take it as it comes. Some days I get irrationally pissed. Other days I feel like I have it all together. I know in the long run, and when things get settled, it will all be for the best.

So going from planning a month in advance with a sitter locked in, to having to wait until the day before or day of, or having to say "Right now it looks like I can make it work, but it could change," has been a hurdle in the transition for me, for sure, but one that I feel okay about. 

It's kept me relatively honest about stuff. With my depression and anxiety I have a hard time communicating with people when it comes to asking them to work with me on what I need to best make social interactions work well. Now I've had to be like, "Look I have every intention of trying to attend but with the hubby's schedule it could not work out that way at all." Or just say "I can come, with or without child, no promises on the whole Chriss fam."

I can see how that may come across flaky and annoying; undependable. But right now it is the reality I'm in. Knowing that it may be perceived that way has been helpful too.

Transitions are rough for me. I think in a sense they are rough for everyone, some just hide it better, but I can have some serious problems with transitions. The last few months have made me work on that, and face it all, ready to defeat it. I'm a work in progress what can I say.

For this Sunday we have taken things as they have come. I have planned a little here and there but nothing too crazy. I'm happy to have some down time but mostly I feel grateful, and really that's what it's all about.

What A Day Of Rest Can Do

Yesterday my poor daughter was sick. No crazy flu, no high fever, just a run of the mill cold. I was honestly surprised no one called me Monday because she was definitely on the decline and Monday night she slept horrible. Wait, let me correct, WE slept horribly.

After 9 days in a row of kicking restaurant rear, yesterday my husband was off. So, they had a lazy morning. However, we had a new washer to procure mid-day so I had to do the afternoon shift of sickie care. I am blessed enough to have amazing bosses who never shame me for my mother status and totally understand sick days, so leaving halfway through my day was not an issue, even a little bit.

My daughter demanded she have sausage so I stopped at the store and then went home to release my husband to get our new fancy washing machine. While he was gone my daughter took like a 3 hour nap. She doesn't nap anymore, especially voluntarily. That's how I knew she was off.

She didn't perk up until almost 7PM and then started showing signs of life and normalcy but I'm telling you, it's kind of impressive what a day of rest can do.

Rest is such a foreign concept to me, which is probably why once every 3 to 5 years I get taken down with some foreign super flu, feeling like I took my healthy life for granted and writing drug-induced living wills on paper towels as my body works against me. Kid are often under-estimated in terms of how much rest they really need.

I don't think it's any surprise that well rested children would listen, learn and play better than those lacking in those areas but I've never felt any shame about bed time, or letting my kid watch TV in her down time. Every parent has the panic of the negative affects of screen time. I get it. However, we live in a world increasingly dependent on those technologies, as a parent it's just our job to control how much and what kind. And every single person will be different.

I've advertised often that we watch subtitles with everything now. Guess what? It has helped our daughter learn to read! Just the other day she noticed the difference in the spelling of flour and flower in a show she was watching. Some kids don't relate as well.

For me, TV time is a restful thing. I love tuning into a good series or old series, even in the background as comic relief. My daughter is much the same. Also, kids are so insanely busy now. We have two back to back birthday parties this weekend and this is after horseback riding lessons!

I don't remember being busy, except maybe for a sports season. I also don't remember not making it to bed at reasonable times. I don't remember play dates being scheduled either. I do remember having to figure out my own entertainment, and it wasn't just the television or video games.

Now that weekends are just as packed as weekdays when do we rest? You're supposed to on the 7th day, but then again, we have to get up and go to church more often than not. Usually by Sunday at 5PM I prefer to be in my pajamas and done peopling and I want us chilling in comfy spaces and eating popcorn. I feel like this is tantamount to readying us for the week.

Yesterday my daughter asked me to play with her, and I said, "I can get some toys out but you really need your rest to go back to school tomorrow." I knew she was sick because she didn't argue and was content binge-watching the likes of Barbie, Pixar movies, and Doc McStuffins. Even after her long nap she slept like a champ and woke up sassy and ready to go.

In the time that I had off with her yesterday I finally cleared our dining room table which is forever a "throw stuff" and creative art space. I filed a bunch of things that had piled up on the file bin to be dealt with. I ran the dishwasher and started the Robovac, I cleaned up a few other areas as well. Not restful, sure, but productive. I was also able to sneak into the gym for the workout I had missed that morning.

It was a good reboot from her being sick, for the whole house. My husband was able to sleep in and decompress from work stuff. The dog was happy to have his humans around instead of being alone in the house. It's kind of cool what a day of rest can do.

We forget to rest too much. We put our bodies and our minds through the ringer too often, but after you get that elusive rest it's kind of nice to look back and think, "wow that was completely worth it."

I don't know why I don't allow myself that more, as I always make room for it, if not force, my child to. Hubby knows his limits better, I guess, and will rest when he's at his max for sure. I kind of assume the dog does all the resting for me, but perhaps it's time to take his cue and better explore more of exactly what a day of rest can do. Maybe Sunday!

Rained Out Beach Plans Mean Overdue Relax Time

I booked a lot of things for this weekend. Today was supposed to be church and beach but we got a crazy thunderstorm that killed off the beach plans. Time to improvise!

This weekend brought waves of feelings of being overwhelmed. Between end of year and teacher appreciation stuff, job hurdles for my husbands, and plans having to be rearranged, things got heavy fast and all I can do is keep trying to stay positive a la "Just keep swimming."

I can only control so much, however I can also only handle so much. What a wonderful line that is. So on a Sunday afternoon, I had a moment where I wanted to diatribe it up and complain. I wanted to write about the struggle in all my exhaustion and vent it all out. But, I decided, why feed into it more?

Sundays are supposed to be a peaceful reboot time and in the midst of the chaos, here I am, still chugging along. My daughter and I are chilling, watching Netflix and embracing a lazy day after the thunderstorms. I had high hopes for a beach day but we can't always get what we want.

I even managed to only dust and do laundry as opposed to scour the house. Weekends are hard, and I don't even mean that sarcastically. Weekends are rough. You try and squeeze so much into so little time and then you realize you have to rally to watch Game of Thrones. It's quite a life.

For now I'm counting my blessings amidst the unknown and embracing as much as I can within my sanity. This week may have some heavy subject matter as I will be divulging all the things. Hang tight readers and enjoy the rest of your weekend!

A Simple Sunday Supplication

I can admit I've been out of the church loop for quite some time due to personal reasons, but as mentioned before a lot of it has to do with Sunday being the only possibility of an alarm free day. No alarm days are rare and if you can catch one, they can make your world seem so much brighter. My life is ruled by alarms, timing, structure, planning and restrictions daily, if not hourly.

It is usually a monthly request for a "no alarm day." It's much like my annual Christmas and Mother's day requests for naps; it gives me something simple and important to look forward to. It's the little things in life.

My daughter spent over 9 hours at a Girl Scout Camp yesterday and came home completely haggard. She was immediately opting out of going to church and I honestly didn't know if I could muster the energy to make her hop to and go.

My daughter and I spent the morning alone and I got the idea to be that cool, proactive parent and use this kit she got as a present to make chocolate eggs for Easter. Famous last words, right? Or better yet, just a bad idea. This whole thing was crap, a sham if you will, and more frustration than anything else. I will never try to be that mom again. I felt like a walking Pinterest fail.

It was then I started launching play dates and getting her out of the house so she could crash out early. Sundays are usually filled with exhaustion and Netflix, and I never begrudge my daughter any chill time. She deserves it, and hell, so do I.

I've successfully not worn makeup this weekend, which I consider a win, and I got a lot done. However, in the wake of the last few weeks I'm definitely feeling worn down and now we have Easter looming.

It is always my request to have Sunday be as low key as possible and is one that is often a tough sell, but when it's just my daughter and I here, I commit us to it.

Today has been a test of my anxieties though. It has been a stress test and very much a testament to my mental fortitude in some ways. If you want me to put a blanket label on my current state of mind, I'm really frustrated, yet here I am being productive and blogging away.

I've become more guarded and very self-aware lately and I'm really unapologetic about it. I've gotten kind invitations to some nice things but there is a part of me that is like, "If I have to pretend to be fine, I'm going to have to decline, because I really don't want to be asked how I've been and come up with an answer that's not, 'I've been really struggling with some personal stuff and it's made me not want to put myself in situations like this, thanks for asking.'" It sounds silly but it's where I am right now.

Blogging daily has become a healthy outlet to share the struggles but diatribe is also in the title of this whole thing after all. Sometimes I know I pander on too complain-y but I stay focused on not being too much of that. Some days are easier than others.

Where I feel my failures I also feel proud that I even recognize them. Where I feel antisocial I feel proud that I'm even taking time for myself and preserving my mental well being. It's all quite a balancing act and it's a process, regardless.

So here I am one day closer to a new week, hours away from the Game of Throne premier back to being my wobbly self. I must say, it's not that bad because I'm awake to it, and aware of it. I like being able to know all this, because I was definitely lacking before.

To my readers, again thank you and I'm already cultivating some ideas for this week's posts. Enjoy the rest of your weekend!

Last Day Of 33, Whatcha Got For Me?

On the eve of my birthday, or as I have been referring to it this year as, "Just Tuesday the 26th," while of course saying goodbye to 33 and hello to 34, I'm almost forced into some reflection so just bear with me.

I remember last year going to an amazing concert with some of my favorite people around this time of year, running the St. Patty's 5K and I think there was ice cream cake. Not to mention, my mother's annual forced upon new fashion or a shopping trip with her. This year I am opting for as much calm and quiet as possible.

My daughter has promised me a "boutique" of flowers and as much as I didn't want to correct her, I did and told her she meant "bouquet," and I hope to snag some time to myself, a novel idea in motherhood.

I will say this, 33 has been a huge year for me personally in terms of growth and strength. Last year at this time I was still settling into things after surviving one of the worst Christmases of my lifetime. I was trying to scrape things together and stay positive, but I was feeling really hopeless and utterly alone.

This was before April, and in April my life was completely turned upside down in every way and I didn't handle it well. March, and especially my birthday, was the beginning of the chaos. At that time, I was still in a place of fight or flight and I was faced with having to support choices I didn't agree with, but sucking it up "for the greater good." It wasn't my best start to 2018.

This year has a much different vibe, more positive and affirming, and I'm proud of and happy with that. After a horrible April 2018, in May I took my life back. I really stood up for myself and my daughter and redefined our family norms. It was a bit rocky through September but we are still building, and growing. So this year, I'm just ready for 34.

Birthday wishes are great, but I no longer feel they are some kind of required barometer for a friendship or an attention level anymore. I feel grateful when someone remembers to text me, let alone remembers something as trivial as a birthday. I won't feel "forgotten" because people have lives and any relationship is complicated and scattered at times. Not getting a nod on a Facebook wall or a text the day of won't break my birthday or get anyone in trouble.

There aren't many years of my 34 on earth that I can recall the kind of strength and growth that I've manifested, especially over these last 6 months, so I want to celebrate that, more than anything else within the birthday. As an only child, my mom cannot help herself when it comes to making it a "thing," no matter how much I beg to just have some ice cream cake and call it a day. My husband gets annoyed I ruin my own requests by buying myself the stuff I need instead of waiting for him to do it for me.

I've decided that Jenny Lewis' new album "On The Line" was released as a birthday gift to me, as she is my spirit animal and one of my most favorite artists. She also starts her tour tomorrow, in Indiana unfortunately, but I can rock from here, regardless. I've been replaying her album as part of my reflective time because she usually writes and records all the feels I need, and somehow exactly when I need them. So, little things like this I consider part of the celebration.

For 34 I want continued growth, strength and bravery. I want to become less and less afraid to stand up for myself in every situation. Ironically this past weekend I had a recurring nightmare about still working in a place where I was made to feel intimidated, inferior and where my needs and requests were consistently ignored only to wake up disgustingly grateful that I'm no longer there. I'll take that as a good sign that I'm in a better place.

Also this weekend my family seemed to master "the chill," of which I am completely the worst. We did some household chores and some necessary upkeep, but we were lazy and watched too much TV, ate what we wanted, had a family sleepover, slept in and just bummed around. It's not something we indulge in often, even though it is necessary. On top of that, I had good conversations with favorite people about struggles and growth and about how we just need to face certain things head on anymore. We're too young to take it for granted and too old to mess around, and I think those two are interchangeable.

So 33, what else have you got for me? I'm ready for more with 34 and yes those all kinda rhyme in weird ways. Maybe the corny, dorky stuff comes with age too. Here's to growing up!

Sorry Not Sorry Is Truly An Epic Phrase

There are only a few phrases in terms of slang that I actually enjoy. For instance the phrase "Throw shade at," is a slight against God and all that is unholy in any grammar usage. I'm also not that big of a fan of "Bae," it just feels like someone forgot the other "b" in "babe."

However, the whole "sorry not sorry" phenomenon, is actually quite insightful, or so I think.

We go through life learning to apologize at an early age. "Say you're sorry!," become the mantra of mothers. We are supposed to teach accountability right? But as women, the whole sorry thing is just another level.

With all the women's empowerment movements the above quote from one of my favorite famous humans, Amy Poehler, is beyond perfect. Women are taught to be sorry for, being loud, especially if it means raising our voice to a man. We are made to apologize for having children "inconveniencing" other walks of life. We have to apologize for dressing provocatively or being "too sexy" and therefore attracting the "wrong kind of attention." We apologize too much, in my opinion but to sum up, "I'm sorry, I'm NOT sorry."

The reason this phrase is both easily thrown around and very appropriate is because you can feel regret that you aren't feeling badly about something you are "supposed" to feel badly about. Think about this: should we feel bad that we stood up for ourselves? Sorry, not sorry. Should we feel badly that we left a situation where we were treated poorly? Sorry, not sorry. And should we feel bad that we say "no" to doing things that "don't spark joy?" Sorry, I'm not sorry.

I started thinking about all of this in reaction to an argument with my six year old. She is 6 going on 16 and said something sarcastic. She gets her sass from me unfortunately. Anyway, I sent her to her room to cool down and feel her feelings and then she made a rude, hurtful remark. So, I took away some precious privileges and cracked down. In effect, I'm sorry that she is upset, but I'm not sorry I disciplined her. She needs to learn respect, even when she feels like things are unfair. Most of life is unfair, but we don't get to be horrible to people just because we are having a bad day, or at least that is the lesson I hope to convey.

I also had the sorry, not sorry, thing come up this morning. In most cases of parental life, weekends are packed. This was the first one in a long time that wasn't completely booked with everything and where we could all just decompress. We had a weird couple of weeks too. As mentioned often before, to me, relaxing is a foreign concept. There is always something I "should be doing," and this morning my husband made me stop, and was actually able to stop with me. On a good week, my husband and I have about 16 hours together, and I'm not exaggerating. Days when we can actually just chill, are few and far between.

So this morning, I was sorry that I blew off the "obligatory," but not sorry that I was lazy and binge-watching Hulu with my husband, a pile of pancakes and bacon. Sorry, not sorry. I'm sorry that I don't feel badly that I said no to things that I wasn't feeling happy or calm about. And, sorry but I'm especially not sorry that I didn't fake some social interactions this weekend just so I could feel like I was socially accepted. Sorry not sorry.

As you get older you become more and more unapologetic and it's not always a mean or snarky thing, but once you get mid thirties, you are kind of like, "So this is who I am now." For me, I will do just about anything for a friend who can treat me kindly and not make me feel badly about myself or my life. But, if you are just going to make me feel like crap, sorry, not sorry, you can just head the opposite direction.

And sorry, not sorry; I'm very done feeling sorry for myself. Life is hard. All you can do is grow. It's not about being, "so strong," it's not about the "resilience," it's about just living. Didn't Matthew Mcconaughey tell us in the cult classic, Dazed and Confused it's just about "livin," "L-I-V-I-N,?" I think so.

So with all do respect, I am truly sorry I'm not sorry. However I maintain that sometimes that is okay. If I actually cause some harm an owe apologies I'm not just going to be that person who refuses to apologize, but overall, let's just turn the Demi Lovato hit up, and keep L-I-V-I-N!

I Suck At Faith

I was raised in a Presbyterian church as a normal, average, "PK" or "Preacher's Kid." Sunday School, Potlucks, BBQ, Sermons, Funerals, Weddings, Baptisms, the whole nine yards of protestant life. I was the kid who played in church and loved to be there. I wanted to take all my friends because church was the best.

In 3rd grade they put me in Catholic School because all my older cousins and my mom had gone to the same Catholic Schools. Religion was my best subject but I learned fast and the hard way that not all religion was the same. I got bullied a lot for not being Catholic. It's not something you can hide because if you don't go through 1st communion you can't have any communion at all in the Catholic church. So while everyone else went up to the front, I stayed seated, not able to participate. 

I can remember two times, both of which I've written about before, where all of my concepts of faith were completely shattered, and both happened before I was 16. To this day, neither of those situations was fully remedied. It wasn't until I was 17, had moved from PA to Florida, then from Florida to Oregon, where I finally just retired from the whole church thing. Granted, my mom and I never even looked at a church when I spent my junior year in Florida; the closest thing to a religious ritual for us was trips to the malls.

My dad was still preaching when I moved to Oregon, but his church was a good 45 minutes away. In the progressive, hippie and free thinking city of Eugene, it was easier to find Pot-dealers than church-goers, and no one who went to church spoke about it. I never had a single person invite me to a church in my 8 years in Oregon and it wasn't because I was a known preacher's kid. It just wasn't a part of my college life.

I don't know how to better describe my current situation as just the fact that I suck at faith. I know a few people who have this unyielding and compelling faith whom I admire so very much, but after a quick conversation with a mom friend who has shared some trauma with me, we kind of acknowledged that while we admire those with it, it's not so easy for everyone.

I read the bible a lot in my youth. I had many discussions with my dad and loved to study all forms of religion so I understand it all, it's just hard for me to jump in head first. For me it comes down to owning my trauma. Until recently, and I mean within the last 6 months recently, I didn't know that the many things I'd experienced in my life were allowed to be called "trauma." I thought they were just bad things that I had to learn from, so dealing with that is a lot as it is.

I've heard a lot about the millennial generation professing the one true truth as "my truth," which I think has some merit in that we are in a time of continued identity evolution. There is a lot more to consider now, than ever before. But also, so much involved with religion has become unflattering and volatile. It's a double edged sword.

I have a "home church," a church I love and identify with for the first time since I was 13. However, this came after visiting two churches that just did nothing for me at all and were part of ritual or expectation rather than "filling my cup." Where I currently attend has brought me amazing friendships and great opportunities to serve the community, which are incredibly important, but I still maintain, in general, I suck at faith.

I think when you spend your life in close proximity to addiction, alcoholism and chaos, it's more difficult to find your way, as rather you are always focused on what's in your way. I wish I had the kind of support to be free in affirming faithful ideas and constructs but I just don't, and that's just par for the course right now.

Talking to anyone about close ties and experiences with family members and loved ones in the throws substance abuse is very difficult, let alone dealing with it privately. Unfortunately, like it or not, church gossip is as easy to get to as a copy of the bible when you walk into worship, so protecting any sense of privacy can feel alienating and a kind of lost cause. 

Last week during horseback riding lessons we spoke to this young girl who had been riding since she was 7. My husband mentioned church and this 14 year old girl said, "You should come to my church! We'd love to have you!" She spoke with pride about what it was like and that even if we had a church we liked, she'd like for all of us to come to hers. I just watched her talking to us about this and was in awe of her. This girl had no fear or reservations about talking about where she held her faith. She was just as happy to talk about her church as she was about her iPhone, her sprained wrist and her horses. 

I think I was like her until my first experiences with family addiction. I think I was able to stand taller before the engulfing force that my early trauma took from me. And I'm sorry to say that dealing with the effects of the substance abuse of others is still very much a part of my daily life, and what keeps me from sucking less at faith.

Without outing everything about my personal life I can report that, although I don't struggle with drug or alcohol abuse, save from being a mother and 2 glasses of wine giving me a headache if I don't have enough water, or beer giving me stomach cramps, it's something that I have never lived without. It is a constant. For many people reading you'll reach out and say this is when I need my church and to find my faith most, but for those of you who have known me the longest, you'll know that's just not an easy thing for me.

I'm not so sure faith is "easy" for anyone, but for me it's just a work in progress like everything else in my life and my best compliment to myself about it is, at least I'm honest about it. I refuse to hide the struggle anymore because it adds too much extra stress. I suck at faith but I'm willing to work on it. For those of you who have that strong and unwavering faith, you're always allowed to share with me because I am well aware that learning about it incredibly important. 

In the meantime, I am healing and working hard on finding ways back to myself. I'm taking the Sundays I need to for a day of rest and late breakfasts, and I'm done feelingly badly about it. I'm taking every lesson I can from every sermon I attend and I'm trying to try to suck much less in the hopes that one day it will truly rub off and become easier for me. Until then, I just keep learning and doing what I can to keep on keeping on; that may actually be the religion in Eugene. "Keep on keeping on." 

Allergic To The Best Weather Of The Year

When I was younger the ideas of allergies was like, when you were allergic to flowers or peanut butter or bee stings and you would puff up, your throat would close up or you could like die. They never warn you that allergies just randomly show up in adulthood to better hinder you from regular functionality without drugs.

It happens the same two times every year for me: October and March. And it's always during the most beautiful weather. It's the weather where you want your windows open and fresh air everywhere, but you can't because you already are covered in boogers and phlegm from when you took a walk earlier.

We have gorgeous oak trees in Safety Harbor. We have a huge one in our front yard. It keeps our house nice and cool in the summer too. We are all ridiculously allergic to it, but it's still a fabulous tree.

My favorite events are in March, and end of October, early November and all are usually taken down a few pegs from my allergies rearing their ugly heads. Besides yelling at the concert, being less hydrated because beer was cheaper than water, and adding being tired on top of it has made my allergies all kinds of unhappy. Not to mention how much I've been outside.

I don't have to miss work; I can still function but boy does my head feel filled with phlegm. It's a gorgeous picture, you're welcome. It's sniffing, sneezing and blowing noses along with deep smoky voices and sinus pressure. It's quite a picnic.

I usually do Benadryl at night and Sudafed by day. This is the only time when I think drugs are my friends and they become a necessary ritual. 

So here I am, ready for my favorite 5K of the year, the Nolan's St. Patrick's Day 5K for St. Baldrick's foundation. It's a great crowd, you get a commemorative cup after and free beer if you want, I never do. You get a shirt and it's under $30. Plus I can walk to it. 

When I do a race I only have one goal: no stopping, so no giving up. I hear my trainer constantly saying, "A slow job is better than a fast walk." And I keep that every time I slow down a little because I'm not feeling so hot or things start to hurt, and I always love that accomplished feeling after I hit the finish line.

I'll be an outwardly horrible person by admitting that my favorite part of any race, is running past the "Fit moms." The "Fit moms" are the moms that look like they've never had a baby and don't even have rolls when they sit, and 9 times out of 10, they burn out first, answer a phone call or slow down to find a friend or a kid, and I jog past them at my steady pace.

I also always get a sick sense of pleasure from the fact that the 19 year-olds who are a foot taller and a good 50lbs less than I am in weight always end up walking at some point. That's right, this slow mom has the endurance!

Even with my allergy stuff kicking my butt I completed my 5K. The morning went nothing like I'd hoped but I did sneak an allergy nap so that's good. We got a little rain but for the next few weeks I'm just settled into the misery that is allergy season, before it starts to get gross and hot for another 7 months. 

Even as I took the dog on a walk with the weather overcast but temperate I was all stuffy and my head was killing me. So as I wind down another successful, but busy weekend, I feel really ready for an early bed time filled with Benadryl and hope for a less snotty week. 

I put in the effort to enjoy the weather at least, so there's that, no matter how allergic I may be. Happy Sunday readers!

Wrangling The Kiddos, Wild And Free

I have one mom friend that lives 5 minutes away and we often plan major adventures for the two 6 year old children and the one 3 year old, not to mention for ourselves. We do parks, beach, downtown festivals in the harbor and random in home play dates. We let our children be insane together to save our sanity as mothers.

With my dad in tow, yesterday we went down to the Safety Harbor Shabby Chic festival to keep our children from touching everything but to get ice cream type treats. We made two stops for sugar and then let the children run wild down at the marina. I think we ended up walking almost 2 miles with three children.

The entire walk consists of my friend and I yelling a mix of: "Don't touch that. Get that out of your mouth! Keep your pants on! Pull your pants up! Shirt down! No one wants to see that! No, we're not buying that. Leave that dog alone. Come on! Let's go! Watch where you are going! Keep walking!" We occasionally stop to laugh that we have to say such weird things and that our kids have almost no boundaries, especially when we are all together.

I looked at my dad at one point and said, "They're exhausting, right?" He said, "YES! Very much!" He admitted to me he's not sure he could parent today and he feels like things were simpler for my sisters and for me. Ironic because I'm not sure I could have parented back then!

With three kiddos out and about, my friend and I are always exhausted because it's a big, planned event of play, feeding them or snacking with them, and then breaking them free from each other which usually involves tantrums. They fight when they are together and complain when they are apart. It's funny and such a task all at once.

My daughter and my friend's son met in the park just before they were two and they very much have a love-hate relationship. When her daughter was born, Luna didn't quite get the point until she was old enough for her to boss her around. Now they are the three little amigos and do mostly well together.

They are more and more independent and need less hands on attention or interference but are exhausting still. Most of the things we plan also include and opportunity for the moms to kick back, enjoy and have fun also. We definitely try and do things to allow them to just run free and get covered in dirt and sweat. 

This is four years in of figuring them all out and I think us moms have realized our strengths and weaknesses with our own children and in turn, with each others. Three hours of crazy is well worth a chill evening in our humble opinions and we tend to do very well with maintaining each other's boundaries and balancing one another out.

I think my dad kind of just liked to watch it all happen. I mean who wouldn't? It's hilarious watching us chase and yell and repeat and repeat and repeat!

When it comes to days like those I always feel grateful when I finally hit the couch and stop moving. Luna usually retreats to some quiet Netflix time and maybe I do too. And then I sit and reflect on the fun. We have all had some epic trips.

We've done Disney, we've driven to new play places and nature parks and farms and zoos and aquariums. We've found new parks with new play structures. We've gone out for great lunches and had amazing treats to share. We play hard! And I love knowing that they will have these memories with each other of their epic childhood tales. 

Sure, there are tantrums and time outs and we yell and scream and cry. That goes for us moms too. But we support each other and help tackle this whole parenthood deal. It DOES take a village! And on a rainy day we can just go a mile down the road and trade who hosts the toy wreckage. It's awesome and what I wanted most for where we lived and for my daughter's childhood.

Wrangling the kiddos as they run wild and free can be daunting, annoying and exhausting, but it sure keeps things interesting. I wouldn't trade it for anything and I plan on using each story as blackmail for all three of these kids in their teenage years. Plus, we have a lot on video!

I Live For Lazy Sundays

I think most moms would agree with me that life is just way too busy. Any single chance that I have to curl up in bed, watch too much TV and decompress, I'm there.

Sundays are often filled with church, which I do enjoy, but it's a total of 45 minutes to an hour drive and means rushing in the morning to rally the troops. I rush Monday through Saturday, because Saturday we have horseback riding lessons, and I'm the one who gets up first, gets everyone up and going and make everyone stay timely. 

So if we can stay home on a Sunday, I want it filled with "sleeping in," unlimited cups of coffee in bed, Netflix, and a big old breakfast. This just doesn't happen enough. I will admit that if I could force every Sunday to be this way, I would but life happens before my big breakfast needs.

I grew up in the church. My dad was a Presbyterian minister. Most people end up surprised when I tell them that because once I moved in with my mom when I was 16, we never went to church. The only gathering place we hit up with any kind of routine or reverence was the mall.

And then when I moved back with my dad I was an angsty teenager with no desire to feed my soul with anything that wasn't Taco Bell, girly alcoholic beverages, and junk food. And my dad never forced me to go to church. Especially in my formative years.

To make things weirder, I spent a good 10 years in Catholic school because my mom went there and it was one of the best schools in the county so off I went. Catholicism was intense honestly and I don't think I ever really understood all of it, which got me into trouble in religion class. Even thought I got all A's, when I asked too many well-thought questions I was quickly silenced. 

But, back to Sundays. My husband wasn't raised going to church at all. Our first jobs we had in Florida, the only day the place was closed was Sunday, which quickly became our only day to sleep in, do anything together and reboot before another work week.

So lazy Sundays became a natural thing to us. It is, after all, the day of rest. And now with life so busy, it's a day I very much appreciate being slowed down when the time is right. And this morning was one of those perfect opportunities.

It started pouring down rain about 6AM and my daughter crawled into bed with me with a stuffy, yucky nose and said, "Mom do we have to go to church this morning? I don't want to be coughing on the other kids." Although we don't have much of a winter in Florida, this is our one cold week and yesterday was tolerable but cold rain? No thank you. That's why I moved far away from Oregon.

She just wanted to chill and binge watch Netflix and I just wanted to not rush to be anywhere. Eventually I mustered up the energy to hit the store for big breakfast necessities but other than that I've been hiding at home all day.

My daughter made a fortress from a cardboard box. I've done 4 loads of laundry. I've reorganized the pantry, cleaned some cupboards, and I might do party favor prep for my daughter's birthday next week. And the weather is perfect for all the snuggles. 

These days are so few and far between I love to bask in them when I can. Life seemingly never slows down and we're always too busy, so when days like this come around, I say no to "obligatory" things and "we should do this, that" or the next thing, and just try and enjoy each other. I'd call today a success. 

Happy Sunday readers! Back to the grind tomorrow.