"I love you" Means I Love You Just the Way You Are

 

  

I got married a second time in June and have experienced emotions I have had to try to organize and understand.  One of those is love in general.  L is the love of my life.  Well, one of them.  Which is none-singular and confusing for me.  I am so black and white down to my core that I have to find a way to deal with things that comes in varying shades of grey.  I don't like grey because it makes things feel so flexible and unsteady.  I like steady... A LOT.
  Love is ALL grey and there is not a damn thing I can do about that.  I have had to find a way to coexist with its many varieties and contradictions and weaknesses and I have not liked it very much.  Love is so intrinsic to my existence and yet it has caused me so much joy and agony.  I am scared of both agony and joy because agony is just the worst and joy holds the greatest of potential of taking you straight to agony.  It feels like a lose/lose for a pessimist such as myself.  In my life experiences, all roads end in some form of hurt and it is a choice I have to make on how to proceed from that pain.    Based on my personal awareness of just about everything last thing that I do or say or think or think about thinking endlessly, I have been sorting out love and my place within it.  I have concluded that how I work is that once I have truly loved an individual, I will love them always and forever even when I wish I could cut and slash and create a black hole to consume and take it away forever.  I will always love someone once that damn line has been crossed and that love may transform or become covered in scars or shift into a different kind of love, or even find hate as a companion, but my heart has a memory that my brain is totally jealous of.
  The catch, of course, is that once someone I have loved does something out-rightly to harm me or someone I am just as equally in love with as them, I feel shattered.  I take it down to the core and I can't ever undo the way that felt and I can't forget it and every single time I see that person, I feel it all over again even if I have forgiven them.  You see, forgiveness and forgetting are different universes that do not meet or touch one another within me.  Forgiving someone releases me of the burden of actively carrying anger or seeking justice, forgetting is something I am not capable of.  In fact, I have no memories up to about age 5 in kindergarten, but my heart has communicated feelings of terror and fear and anger I cannot place upon any specific memory before that age.  But you best know that whatever happened before I can remember shaped me into who I am now.
  I have lost so many people I love.  I have walked away from people I love.  They have walked away from me.  None of that goes unnoticed by my heart and it reminds me intermittently each day of what I have lost and what I have gained.  My aching heart is scared of loving new people because it has grown wary of pain and it knows love is the key in.  Once I love, the person has the potential to wreck havoc upon me without prejudice and, at this point, very few people have not taken that liberty.  I know it is my own fault.  I let people use me.  I am willing to be as loving, giving, supportive, and accommodating as possible to show them how much I care while thinking of my own needs as a burden upon them.  Until recently, I have let it slide when the other person would happily take and take and take and only give enough as to not inconvenience themselves for my sake.

  I'm over it.  I am DONE justifying my worth to ANYONE.  I am done giving 100% and receiving 10%.  If I am not worth someone's effort, they will not be worth mine.  I am worthy of love and help and acceptance.  I do not need to be used or bossed around or lectured or bullied and I should owe the other person NOTHING for their love or help.  I perpetually give way too much and expect almost nothing in return.  It didn't used to even cross my mind that someone should WANT to be by my side while I cry or am sick in a hospital or am sad or lonely because I have felt those things alone my whole life and gotten through them feeling like I will be a burden upon anyone who helps me.  I have undermined my own worth and taught that to others and I am about to reverse that permanently.
  I am in a place in my life where I need to envelope myself with love and surround myself with people who love me as I am and not because of what they can get out of me or take from me.  My heart and soul need reprieve from diminished worth and practically throwing support at others hoping for at least a little love back.  I want people around me that say "I love you" and it mean "I love you the way you love me because you are you".  Those people are welcome in and the rest need to move along to take from someone else.  My needy days are over.  My worth is here to stay.

What It Takes to Love a Nae

  Recently I was made painfully aware of some things.  People I called my friends, people I love, showed me something about themselves and about me.  They showed me what selfishness is and what it looks like and that even the best of us has it.  They are selfish, I am selfish.  Pretty straight forward I guess...
  There has been so many challenges for me to overcome.  So much stress and hard work and sacrifice to get where I am already and to get to my ultimate goals.  And not must my stress, hard work, and sacrifice was required.  My loved ones had to donate to those categories too.  So damn much.  They all picked up the slack when I needed child care support so that I could study, or have the kids covered when E got ill and put in the hospitals.  They had to sacrifice hanging out with me, getting a speedy response to a text, a returned phone call, knowing I cared because I was so freaking busy that I couldn't let them know I loved them.  That eventually takes a toll.
  The brutal truth is, any insecurity about my love for you is going to grow and grow to in-proportionate levels during these endless semesters of school.  I am focused and determined and like a freight train about obtaining my RN, BSN, and then Masters.  That is fueled by my love for my children and when you are using love as a fuel, you tend to be in super mode and get tunnel visioned.  I know I do.  I know it blinds me to the the people that need me.  I am sorry for that.  I am sorry they feel like I am moving in fast forward, with my eye on the prize, and have lost the time to be there for them.  What I wish they could understand is how unbelievably much I love and adore and appreciate them.  That without their love and support, I would fall flat on my face.
   I never ever ever intentionally abandon or stop caring about my friends or family (it would hurt so much less if I could just turn off caring in some cases).  I never ever choose to ignore a cry for help or support or comfort or a good laugh.  If I am made aware of someone in need, I WANT to help them and will go out of my way to push commitments around to facilitate that person's needs.  I love my people and I love being part of their lives and I love their presence in my life.  But I am busy and I am not going to pick up on subtleties or quiet attempts right now.  I need to have someone say, "LaNae, I know you are busy, but I need you."  and I will be there.  Period.  I just need that distress call and I need understanding from my friends if it takes a minute, hour, or day to rearrange my world to give them my best.
  I need understanding in return.  I need empathy in return.  I need unconditional love and a conviction within them that I love them unconditionally back.  I LOVE YOU my family and friends.  You are IMPORTANT, you are STRONG, you are INSPIRATIONAL, you are AMAZING in every way from my eyes.  Please etch that in your hearts.  I cannot say it enough, say it louder, or say it clearer than that.  I appreciate your patience and many times I consider you my own personal hero squad.  You have been the late night call I could cry to, the friend that went out of their way to suffer through wedding details with me, the one that applauded me when I reached a goal, the one that brought me back down to earth when I got too far off the ground, the one that asked "which kid/s and what time" when I asked for help during an emergency child care situation.  But PLEASE, when you are feeling like I am not giving enough to you, step into my shoes for just a minute.
  I am on a pathway to independence.  I am on a pathway of no longer relying on state assistance or child support to feed and get medical support for my children or pay my bills.  I am doing EVERYTHING within my capabilities to raise FIVE children, work part-time to pay for child care and gas in my car, and go to school FULL TIME to get into a nursing program.  Take a step back and really think about that.  Do you have to literally work all week long tending to five kids and a home WHILE going to four classes (and doing all the homework and prepping for exams) WHILE working just to ensure you can afford a babysitter and have gas to put in your car?  Do you have a child with a genetic disorder and immune system deficiency?  Do you have an autistic child ON TOP of all that that needs you to help them wind down or get the support they need?  Step into my shoes and try to comprehend what a single day of my life feels like before you turn your rage on me.  I cannot make more than $11.50/hour right now.  That would not even cover the cost of the child care it would cost for each shift of work I would clock in for.  I am on the one and ONLY path that will free my family from that cycle.
  I am more than willing to do everything required to reach that goal.  But I cannot force you to stick it out with me and I won't even ask it of you.  If you can do this, please understand what I am going through and WHY it is the only real option I have.  If you do I will never find the words to thank you enough.  If you can't, I can't be mad because that would be so unfair of me.  So think it out for me on if you can or even want to stay by my side through this journey and I will support your decision.  Because I care about your health and wellness just as much as my own and if I am not helping you more than I am hurting you, I would never ask you to stay in a place of hurting.  I just can't throw aside all my hard work either.  It just is what it is.  So I will leave it at that.  I love you, I have appreciated you far beyond what I can ever tell you, and I would love you to be with me, but if you can't, I will not blame you for walking away.

Blurring the Lines of Fear and Faith

  Oh how I longed for that Sociology final to be over.  Once that guy was submitted, I was DONE for the semester.  This semester was so intense with the chemistry class I had to take to gain entrance into Anatomy  & Physiology I.  I didn't know how I did on the chemistry final, but I knew I had been rocking it on tests, quizzes, and homework after adjusting my schedule around to practically become Siamese twins with the subject.  I felt like it went great, but arrogance is a big NO NO that I get smacked down for shamefully often by the universe, if you will.  I kept myself guardedly optimistic.  I already knew I had aced my math final and class and my pottery class was a wonderful reprieve all semester long so that was an A as well.  I just had to wait on the other two finals and two papers I had submitted for Sociology to know if all my hard work paid out.
  I took the very last final on a Friday.  I felt like I could float away from the relief of it being over and have a full blessed month off before Spring semester began.  L and I decided to celebrate and loaded up the kids and took them to Chuck E Cheese's.  The kids needed to know we all got to celebrate together because we all have to make sacrifices as a family when school is going.  Far less for them, for more for L and I, but still worthy of acknowledgement and rewards.  E started coughing weird in the car as we drove to the lalapalooza of kid joy and it sounded like a gag tangled with a cough.  I asked her repeatedly if she was okay and she was so excited that she would brush me off with, "I am okay mommy".  My nerves were on edge, but nothing else seemed wrong yet so we went on with the fun.
  The drive home produced more random gagging coughs and I put her to bed early.  Before I even reached my own bedtime, she was awake and weeping for me to comfort her.  Something was wrong so I let her lay in my arms that night (or kicking me in the face or jabbing me in the eye as is protocol for children in your bed).  When I awoke to do Sunday morning stuff, she was feverish.  I could tell the instant I touched her skin and I knew she was in serious trouble.  I have personally witnessed my E have infections come from her eyes, nose, and ears simultaneously while laid up in a hospital bed for days on end getting treatment and never raise temperature.  She doesn't get fevers.  It makes catching her illnesses all the more tricky and scary for everyone.  Her immune system is fun that way.
  I took her temp and she was up to 99.3 so I called my mom and the instant she heard the words "E has a fever", she was inviting me to bring my other three over immediately.  She could read my mind that E needed to get to the emergency room ASAP.  I handed out pop tarts, dressed kids, and hustled them into our minivan in rapid succession and off we went.  I dropped off kids and then took E to the hospital.  The physician's assistant that saw us was fantastic.  He asked every question and ran every swab.  In the time it took to get her vitals checked the first time, she had gone up to around 100 degrees.  By 30 minutes later, she was passing the 102 mark and they gave her medicine.  The swabs came back RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus) positive.  He gave me directions to follow up with her pediatrician and gave her zofran in case she started throwing up.
  She had a horrible night.  Anytime her fever reducers would run low, the fevers would spike suddenly and bring violent vomiting spells with them.  She was barely eating or drinking.  I called the e.r. and asked for guidance.  They just had me give her the zofran, wait, give her the fever reducers, wait, and repeat.  It was a symptom cover-up that got her through the night.  I took her in to the pediatrician on her cocktail of meds and the doctor was completely uninterested.  She told me, "you got this" and sent us out the door 30 seconds after walking in.  No tests, no research about RSV and DiGeorge.  Just "you got this" and out.  I took her home and soon her meds were no longer working.  I called the Nurse's Hotline and they urged me to take her back in so I loaded her up and went back to the emergency room.  Her vitals seemed slightly off and her fever was holding with Motrin in her system.
  I wanted more tests run.  They gave her Tylenol to bring down the fever more and gave her a pop-sickle.  Then a different physician's assistant came in and told me that running more tests would "just tell us what we already know, she has RSV".  He talked me out of getting chest x-rays or running blood work.  They made me feel like I was dropping the ball not just adding in Tylenol and was being dramatic bringing her back to the emergency room.  I took her home and we went through another very terrible night.  I woke up on almost no sleep the next morning KNOWING that her condition was not just RSV.  I knew she was slipping into a crisis and I knew that no one here was going to help her.  I googled RSV and DiGeorge and the medical journals immediately started showing fatalities.  Sudden deaths due to rapid onset of pneumonia.  I jumped into action.
  My friend and I drove her to a Reno emergency room and I let all my fear, sleep deprivation, and anger loose.  They handled it well as they watched my poor baby vomit violently empty-stomach contents.  Her oxygen was down to 87, her temp was climbing, she was dehydrated and lethargic.  They ran tests.  Her lungs were filling with fluid and she required i.v. fluids and antibiotics, plus oxygen.  She was admitted with a fever of 103.5.  The blood tests came back showing some form of staph growing and the doctor delivered the preliminary results grimly, but with hope it might be a contaminated sample.  When they left, I researched staph blood infections and my world dropped out from under me.  I asked EVERYONE to start praying.  They did.  They are wonderful like that.  It didn't hurt that I had multiple friends and family members jump into action in helping with my other children instantly and they ensured I could get E better.  I love them so much.

  I made my way downstairs to a gift shop and when I went to buy some random pain killers for a massive headache, the owner saw my demeanor.  She asked if I was okay and I said no.  I said my daughter might have a staph infection in her blood.  She came around and took me by the arm to the chapel and sat down with me.  She told me about her daughter, her only child, that had leukemia.  She told me about her daughter's death in that exact hospital and the unbearable path of healing she had to endure to be where she was now.  She told me about all about her education, her place on multiple boards for charities, and all the children she now knows and loves and helps.  She gave me a place to sit and cry and pray quietly until I could wipe it off and go back to being strong for E.
  I found out in the midst of all this that I aced my chem final, got an A.  That I aced my Sociology class.  I earned that 4.0 I wanted so badly.  It was the most confusing place to be happy and drifting so far from happiness simultaneously.  I was disjointed by it.  I missed my other children and would make back and forth trips to Fallon to get groceries in my house, hold my other kids, hold my L, get clothes ready for the next few days for all of them just to rush back to E.  Days after the prayers were started, they were answered.  The staph grew out to show a skin cell had contaminated the blood sample and she DID NOT have staph running wild through her blood.  I thought I might implode from the joy and relief and from gratitude.  God had it under control and he showed me that when I was letting fear run my world.

  E spent 5 days in the hospital getting top-quality care from Saint Mary's Children's Hospital.  She got to go home acting like herself, with an unfortunate new heart mummer caused by the stress on her body.  I felt elated the instant we walked in the door of our home and I still had just enough time to still rescue Christmas for the kids.  Even though I shopped for FIVE kids on Christmas Eve, it all came together.  They all got to wake up to their mom and sister home and presents under the tree.  My gift was being there to see it happen and E being there with me.  You can't wrap that up, but it means a million times more in the end.

What I Wish You Knew

  My most recent college semester came to a close December 13th.  I learned A LOT during my Fall 2013 semester.  I took a chemistry class, a math class, a sociology class, and a pottery class.  Only one was online (sociology) while the rest were upfront and personal in a classroom or lab.  By the time I took my first string of exams and saw I was resting at low A's or high B's, I knew I needed to click back into gear from my Summer and post-concussion brain-space because I am shooting for straight A's to ensure the greatest possibility in being accepted into nursing school.  A- or B+ was not going to achieve that goal.  So I made a plan.
  Every morning after all FIVE of my children would load onto their buses or I dropped them off at school, I would go pick up breakfast and some form of caffeine (I was still trying to push through blinding migraines after my brain and neck injuries) and then drive over to the college.  I would get out all my college stuff and hoof it to the college library where I would then spend almost three hours Monday through Thursday studying.  I would then head home to meet the bus from my half-day preschoolers and get them fed and run errands and get naps taken care of.  I would go to classes throughout the day as well.  I would attempt to do all my housework in-between.  Some evenings I would wait for L to be available and for him to take care of the little kids and I would go to a library, McDonald's, or Cafe and study or do homework until I would run out of working hours or homework (usually working hours came far before homework completion).
  Thursdays still belonged to weekly trips to Reno for my G to get the help she needs in daily skills for her PDD-NOS and then I would have to have all my pottery projects for the week ready to present that evening.  I would usually make Tuesday afternoons my pottery days and build whatever I was needing to while letting the boys play with clay next to me.  It worked out nicely.  Fridays are no Kindergarten or preschool so I had kids home and would have to do what I could at home with them until L was off work and off I would go to do more school work.  Weekends were OWNED by my studying and homework and I would meet with a study buddy and spend at least 8 hours a day on it.  Success, in my book, meant that I understood my coursework well enough to fly through a test were one approaching and I would pour over my studies until I would reach that point, no question or room for anything less would do.
  It took me until my late 20's and becoming not only a mother of 4 children 4 years apart in age, but a divorced single parent to those 4 lovelies to GET IT.  I had ample opportunity to go to college and succeed and achieve my degree before I married and had all my children.  I didn't.  I couldn't.  I didn't have motivation, I was easily distracted, I didn't want to devote my fun time to my school work, I was immature and I was directionless.  My studies went about as far as... SQUIRREL!  Oops, sorry, I mean I could study about as long as.... SQUIRREL!  Yeah, that is about as far as those efforts got me back in the day.  I wasn't ready and I wasn't serious or realistic about what it really took to reach goals at a college level.  I get it now.  I get it so much deeper than I can possibly express or share.
  To take it a little further on just how driven I have to be, let us remember that I have an immune compromised 6 year old.  She would get sick, scary sick, and I would rush her to a doctor that would have to admit her into the hospital.  I would study with her in the bed next to me, have someone close to her come by to hang with her, go take an exam or attend a class, then go straight back to her bedside and get an A on my exam.  How?  Am I just so detached and blinded with succeeding?  No, far from it.  It was because the whole time I took that exam, I knew that I wanted to make sure I gave her and all her siblings the very best of me always.  To fail that test would undermine leaving her side when my heart and soul ached to be with her ALWAYS, especially when she was in distress and surrounded by sterile beds and hard-working medical staff.  She deserved nothing less than my complete best on anything that I needed to step away to do.  I gave her that.  I gave all of them that even if it was hours sitting in a library studying.
  Getting exposed to so much nastiness would eventually knock me down with horrible viruses.  More than once I would contract some spiffy new disgusting illness that would immediately nestle itself into my sinuses, chest, or lungs and just have a party.  I would wear turtlenecks to class to breath into and have something to cough into.  I had stashes of antiseptic hand gels in my backpack.  I would attend backup labs to avoid spreading the love so that my antibiotics could take affect.  I would sit far away from others, feeling like I was 90 years old and needing a nap and still push through it all.  That is what college means.  I am paying to be there.  My only real opportunity at full independence balances on my devoting everything to this.  It is worth this, all of it.
  None of it was possible without a MASSIVE support system.  L had my back and felt so abandoned at times.  We had to make a deal to help us both push through these energy-sucking vacuums of classes.  He would do all the kid backup and work the 40+ hours a week and deal with weekends where he barely saw me and I would get my degree and then return that favor in spades.  We have a deal.  I will rock school, become a nurse, and then allow him the same support when he goes to college.  I love that so much about him.  Education is a catalyst to us both.  He will get equal, or more, to what he is giving in return.  I am looking forward to the days when I have reached my goals and can cheer him on for his.  I love him and love being a part of his happiness.
  Outside of L's endless and selfless support, I have S.  She watches my kids for EXTREMELY affordable rates and all my children love her so much that they beg for her constantly.  Makes me feel like chopped liver, but S is a rock star so I have to eat it LOL.  She is the ONLY reason I could attend my classes and not have to come up with hundreds of dollars more than my pell grant allows for child care costs.  I know it can be taxing with her health issues, but I appreciate her beyond what I am able to tell her.  My children call her their "soul aunt" because instead of being related, they get to choose her as family.  That is love.  My mom is always ready and willing even though she has a plate equally full as mine when crisis arises.  She has saved my butt many times.  I love my mommy.
  I got a 4.0 GPA again.  I made the Deans' List again.  I worked every single day of that semester and the one before it to reach that goal.  I will have to do it again, and again, and again...  None of it is because I am "smart".  None of it was just, show up and you will do fine.  I sat down with a planner, made a study schedule, enlisted the support it would require, and slaved over it with strict precision.  You can do it too.  I am not smarter than you, I am not stronger than you, I am not anything more than you.  I have failed so many times in my life, but I got up and I made a plan to fix those bad choices and I went to it.  You can too.  If you have a dream or a goal, you CAN do it.  I believe completely in that and in you.

So, what is your dream?
What challenges hold you back?
What could change that?
When do you start?

Mountains Of Mine

  My mountains are big.  They are towering, glorious things in which I feel so small next to.  Sometimes climbing them leaves me refreshed and accomplished and sometimes they beat me down to pulp and teach me who's my daddy.  Those day suck.  Sooooo much.  But, these mountains of mine are not so unique as I once thought they were.  They are not as individually designed just for me as I once assumed.  They are mountains that I believe I climb alongside so many others, but am too tunnel visioned to see.  I have co-climbers and my mountains are not mine at all, they are ours.
  Mountain number one giving me grief is being a divorcee.  I am on a very crowed mountain there, but we are all so quiet about our climb on that steep wall.  The grief we carry within is so deep, so real, so powerful, and so private.  But I am going to shout from this mountain-side right now:  I am with you!  I hurt too!  I survived that death just like you did and I carry such similar battle scars as you do!  You are NOT alone.  I understand your aching hearts, your wounded dreams, your sorrow when you have to sleep in your home with children gone to the other parent and feel partially dead until they return to you.  I know loneliness and guilt, shame and failure.  I know freedom after escaping a prison cell that was once a castle.  I am with you.  I am climbing right next to you.  It stops hurting with time and with love from God and those close to you.  You still have ghosts within and around you that you will deal with, but the hole punched through you does recede somehow.  Hang in there and keep climbing.
  Mountain number two belongs to VCFS/DiGeorge Syndrome.  This mountain was a nasty, sneaky little bugger.  It played hide with and seek with everyone like a friggen possessed mirage from Hades for E's first 16 months.  Made me look clinically insane at times and made me learn to be as aggressive as necessary in fighting for my voiceless baby.  Made me learn when to trust myself and my instincts as a mother.  It also forced me to understand that I am quite powerless, but that God is omnipotent.  Until the day I surrendered to my Father in Heaven and gave my will over to him as a mother and promised to simply act out of love of my child and her best interests instead of being relentless at any and everyone to find the problem, I was nowhere closer to knowing anything.  But the moment I gave it over to Him, He was ready to open up the minds and hearts of those who could help her to figuring it all out.  I learned that sometimes, the climb is not mine, it is His.  He wants us to climb together as a team.  He needs us to be brought to our knees so that we can see that he is right there fighting the good fight by our side or for us completely.
  VCFS is so vast.  It is so unique to each of the babies born with it.  One, teeny, tiny, little missing piece in one, teeny, tiny, little section of your 22nd chromosome can change a baby's course in the most immense and shocking ways.  It can whisk their lives away before a year old or it can be a part of who they are from birth until they meet great-great-grandchildren.  It is a custom job having this syndrome and not in a fun and happy new car kind of way.  You have to learn the exact formula of VCFS your child has through myriads of tests, both invasive and not.  You have to take them to teams of up to or more than nine doctors that coordinate global treatment plans to give your child a fighting chance at a healthy and happy life.  You have to sit in waiting rooms during therapies and while your love goes under the knife for the first, fifth, tenth... time.  You learn faith when you watch your child get put under anesthesia and realize how powerless you really are really quick.  You learn signs of distress in your child so subtle that no one but you can see it, but you are the one that saves their life over and over with your fast response.  You are a hero to your VCFS child.  And God is your hero.  You are a TEAM.
  He is in the surgery rooms, the waiting rooms, the therapy sessions, the IEP meetings, the doctor's offices, the emergency rooms, the hospital rooms.  He is giving you courage when you watch your child fight for their life doing all you can to help them heal and he is how they fight for their life and win.  You are not alone because aside from all the other families climbing this mountain, our Father, our Creator, and our Best Friend is pushing, pulling, or even carrying us all up that steep incline.  This mountain sometimes makes me feels so beaten down, so scraped up, so TIRED, so overwhelmed.  But then I can look at her face, feel her head on my shoulder, see her laugh or dance or play joyously and I can see all that I give is nothing compared to all I would be willing to give just to see her keep living so brilliantly.  She is radiant and strong and brave and pure and loving.  Boundaries do not exist in what I would go through to help her share that light for as long as God will allow.
  Mountain number three is the freshest of the batch.  Autism.  Pervasive Developmental Disorder.  Aspergers.  G has shown signs for quite some time dating back to talking later than was "normal" while excelling at other motor skills and going full-speed without regard of boundaries.  With signs of something being significantly distressed within her a year and a half ago, I sought out therapy for her and all avenues of help and support I could manage.  With road blocks and dead-ends being a constant uphill battle in trying to narrow down what to make of her oddities and struggles, this mountain felt like it was just made of mazes.  It still does to be honest.  It feels like the strangest sensation of going nowhere while never stopping your feet.  Where the heck am I now?  I thought we made it over there, but we are back to this same stick on the ground or rock we saw last week!  What the heck is that animal supposed to be?  Does that thing even exist?!  It is a disorienting mountain.  You never know where you stand, where you are supposed to be, or where exactly it is you are supposed to arrive at the end of it all.
  With much more in-depth testing about to take place, all I can do is let God run the show because I am all tuned around backwards... forwards?... wait, left?... aw crap, still have no clue where we are.  G and I have come so, soooo far through her therapy and yet we still feel oddly adrift.  Some issues have been so well managed while others take their place and we have to somehow find a new approach in coping with that new exciting development (facetiousness alert!).  She is brilliantly intelligent.  I am talking an I.Q. high enough to make you whistle.  Her vocabulary shames adults.  She is a math whiz.  She is beautiful and gifted.  She need ear muffs so that sounds don't send her off a cliff of the mountain.  She has boundaries about touch.  She needs patience when her brain feels like she is losing control and she works feverishly to reestablish it no matter what that takes or who is standing her in path.  She is a big person stuck in a little body.  Oh how I love her.  Her mountain is not so much new as it is just now labeled.  Dealing with the deeper meaning behind that label is what we are now working on.  That is okay though because we are not going to give up or give out.  We are in this together.  We are a family.
  You have mountains.  Some of mine I have already climbed, danced is jig on the top, mooned anyone looking, and skidded my way down the other side.  Others I had to lean on those stronger than myself, hugged them once we reach the top, and held hands as we descended to level ground for a while.  I hope that knowing about mine helps you know that we all have them, we are FAR from alone on them, and to never ever give up.  You've got this.

Don't Stand So Close To Me

  I am not your type.  I am not really anyone's type.  I am not even a required taste or a delicacy to any.  I am mine.  I am my own.  With that said, I am also not going to bend or shift or budge from who I am to appease anyone.  I will not use anyone else's lingo or fall into their beliefs to make them like me.  I have learned some hard and important lessons about what being myself, in my own body, in my own mind, with my own values and purpose, really even means.  I have found healing power in God, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost.  Those entities are three distinct, powerful, beautiful, love-driven, sources of the deepest moments of peace, joy, calm, and love I have even experienced.  They are why I am here, why my precious babies are here, and why all of you are here.  Tah dah.  That is IT.
  I have endured a life filled with experiences that some find too graphic or ugly or uncomfortable to hear.  I have literally LIVED through acts so evil by the hands of others that if I try to open up and find a place to confide, it is overwhelming for the other person and they make me stop talking or try to switch over to how "great" I am doing "now".  They are not desensitized like me so they are feeling things about my own life that I do not even remembering feeling myself.  That is something I am finally grasping.  I am able to have gone through those experiences because God took over.  He made it so that I could live past it and still be functional and someday heal enough to love.  I knew God before anyone taught me anything because when those moments of terror or hurt took place, he took the wheel and allowed me to retreat far away.  He very much was my protector and I knew Him just as I knew my mom or sister or grandma or any other family member.  He NEVER left my side or left me to the wolves.  Not ever.
  I am 31 years old today.  When I married, I thought all my woes were behind me and I moved forward into a life of being a devout member of the church.  I had a perfect baby with my husband, got sealed to my husband in a temple, and felt my life was on a chartered flight to eternal happiness.  I absolutely expected some trials here and there, but I certainly wanted to invest completely in my fairy tale no matter how absurd that may seem.  I wanted my nightmares to be gone and over and for phase two to be a relief.  Some of it absolutely was, while other things lingered unhealed and in need of care.  I knew I would get to those issues over time but I had to be patient and wait until the season would come.
  When my world unraveled and I was left a divorcee with four little ones starting phase three (out of who knows how many) of my life, I knew I had to move on and push through it.  The way that has occurred is not what I expected it to be.  I failed myself in some areas, was failed by others, was uplifted and loved and supported without question by others, and learned strengths in myself I never knew I possessed.  After being abandoned by a faith I loved as much as I loved my own family members, I had to somehow try to figure out what to do next.  I chose a time-out.  I chose to stay close to the people that have unconditionally loved me all my life or at least as long as I have known them that do not require anything of me more than that I am me.  I don't have to say or do or NOT DO anything for them because I am good enough for their love and acceptance no matter what.
  I have felt like a piece of my identity was left out to hang indefinitely.  Just adrift in the wind, flapping around, not really sure what to do with it.  Before my faith I was a very shattered and cold person.  In my experience, everyone was out to get me and if I sensed them ready to strike, I was ready to strike first or strike last, if not both.  I grew up with country-girl "street smarts".  The gospel soothed my scarred soul, gave me answers I so deeply longed for, and made me feel safe.  I was surrounded by eager support and welcoming demeanor from all.  I have NEVER felt more peace and oneness with my creator in all my life than I did the moment I was raised from the waters of baptism.  It was profound.  I was clean and weightless and filled with joy.  You can't possibly know how heavy your burdens are until Jesus Christ himself lifts them permanently from you.  There is no other experience I can compare it to.
  I feel forgotten.  One single angry woman purged my name of good to all she could reach.  She somehow justified to other "Christians" that she was somehow in the right for putting myself and my four innocent children on the street.  That is actually okay.  I can't say I am angry because I am not.  I am sad.  I am wounded in a way that I cannot possibly explain to anyone who has not experienced it themselves.  Most importantly I am done trying to prove my worth to anyone who doesn't want to see it.  I know my Creator adores me.  He crafted me with love and care and joy and sent me here to a world that may not possess the qualities of Heaven, but does possess the ability to allow me into Heaven someday with what I do here.  It is my job to be good, all our job.  To be kind.  To forgive.  To grow.  To recognize sins and turn them into lessons.  To raise hand-crafted pieces of God and somehow teach them what matters and what doesn't.
  So, to my lovely and precious friends out there:  I am not going to your church or any other right now.  I have no definite plans on where I will go or what I will do.  I know what I believe and I know what feels right and wrong.  I just need time to deal with the words, actions, and lack of actions that have transpired both good and bad.  I am so so sorry if that hurts you or offends you or makes you remove me from your life.  I am not going to do or not do things to appease anyone.  I am going to cope with what I need to through Heavenly Father, my Savior, and the Holy Ghost until they give me the go-ahead to do anything big.  You have all impacted my life in a beautiful way.  You would not be so important to my heart had you not.  I hope you stay with me and do not decide to distance yourselves based on any changes that come along in me.  I am up against some odds that are mountains from where I stand and I am doing my best.
  I am doing my best.

So Imperfect and So Little Time

  I am outnumbered and completely imperfect.  I am a mother of four and every other week I have my soon-to-be stepson here with me while L is at work.  School is starting in a month and a half in our county and that isn't just the children's school starting, I go back to college full-speed and full-time as well.  I have been struggling to stay on task or stay on schedule with my home and exercise goals for the last couple of weeks and with school adding on top of my daily routine, I had to get myself back on track now and not later.  I did some searching on Pintrest.  I am addicted to Pintrest and I admit it lol.  I realized that I need to develop good habits and I thought about the habits I wanted to work into most.  In my Pintrest searching, I found some ideas that I liked and I made it happen here in my home today.  I start this tomorrow.
  The first idea I found was this:

The idea is that you think of a habit you want to develop.  You get post-it tabs and number them however many days you want to do it in a row until you feel you will be in a habit of doing it.  Each day you complete it, you pull the post-it off.  If you miss a day, you put them back up and you start over.  I researched how long it takes to develop a habit and the results are all over the place, so I opted for 30 days because that is a full month straight.  Now, I am poor so I wanted to do this without a trip to the store to buy post-it tabs and I used stuff from around my house.  Remember L's proposal and all those paper cranes he made me?  Well those cranes had leftover paper strips the exact right shape so I decided to use those and tape I already have around.

  I made a goal list of things I want to work most on and get much more consistent about performing each day and I made my strips.  I put them up in my room and bathroom where I can lock a door and keep the five sets of little hands from destroying all my work.  Kids are great at destroying houses.

• Goal 1 is to brush and floss the kids and I's teeth twice a day.  That is a lot of effort, but it is extremely important for everyone's mouths to be happy and healthy.  The flossing will be the new part and we will see how that adventure turns out...

• Goal 2 is to consistently do at least on load of laundry a day.  (Missing even one day with this many people can lead to disaster.)
• Goal 3 is to seriously reinforce helping all the kids do age-appropriate chores to keep the downstairs clean.  I can do it myself, but it doesn't teach them to be responsible and understand how crappy it is to clean up if you trash your home.  Ahhh, the beauty of teaching consequences.
• Goal 4 is to do my deep cleaning of either one room in the house, my van, or the yards.  I have a schedule that covers the whole house:  Monday- downstairs bathroom, desk area, and dusting; Tuesday- vacuuming the stairs and upstairs hall and cleaning the kid's bathroom; Wednesday- cleaning the kids rooms and changing the linens; Thursday- cleaning my bathroom; Friday- cleaning my bedroom; Saturday- cleaning my van and doing yard work; Sundays- I am willing to do some catching up on excess laundry, but I hesitate with it being a day of rest and the Sabbath.
• Goal 5 is to exercise.  I want to say that biking did some serious damage to my body so I am backing off of it and going to a lot more strength training instead.  It burns more and protects your body from burning muscle fibers for energy instead of fat.  Aerobic burns equal parts fat and muscle.
• Goal 6 is a way for me to get all these kiddos clean without overwhelming myself every night.  I have decided to rotate girls and boys each night to lessen the dread of scrubbing down everyone every night.  This may not be a big deal for someone with one or two kids, but when you have a litter of kids, it is a genuine issue when you are exhausted from a long day full of cleaning, cooking, kid-watching, and exercising.

Pardon my smudgy scale, it is well used lol.

• Goal 7 is to weigh in each morning and track everything I eat.  I have gained back about four pounds from my two week respite and have to get back on the wagon.  I have a dry erase sticker up that I can track what I weighed the previous day or write down words of encouragement to myself.

  As a way of visually seeing my progress with weight loss, I found this idea:

So I came up with my own version with things I have around the house: 

Instead of fish bowl pebbles, I decided to use the paper cranes from L's proposal to me.  I get to feel loved every morning while moving cranes as the pounds come off.  Basically a win-win way to start my day.

I think we all have things we don't do at all or don't do enough that we really want to develop into a good habit.  For me I have to get my life back in order after feeling really bad physically last week and not staying on top of my stuff like I should have as a result.  School is closing in and we will all have A LOT on our plates so getting into strong, positive habits is going to be imperative in keeping everything running smoothly.  Feel free to try out these ideas and let me know if they work for you and I will be checking in with my progress.  Here is to healthy habit building!