I can't sleep

So I'm sitting here at 1am* on my 40th birthday and I can't sleep. And now my Netflix isn't working. And my phone is on the charger. But my mind is spinning, spinning, spinning, so... perfect time to blog, right?

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Right now at the top of my mind is an unpleasant topic, at least for me. Have you ever seen a woman with a man, or listened to one of your girlfriends talk about a guy, and you just know they have a crush on him, even if they haven't told you yet?

Yeah. Right now there are two women in our circle who I'm pretty sure have crushes on my husband. Now, I have no flat out evidence, nothing's been outright said (obviously), and no, I don't think anyone has done anything, but... you know that feeling. Not even the gut feeling of the wife, but the feeling when you see your (hopefully single) friend crushing on a (hopefully single) guy and there's just something about the way she talks, or how she is around him that tells you how she feels before she actually tells you how she feels. That. Except instead of being happy & giddy & nervous for her you're kinda ticked off and a little sick to your stomach because she's in your circle and both of you see her regularly and this is a little close to home for your taste. But you kinda have to be nice, or at least cordial, to her, because there is absolutely no evidence that she (or he) has done anything wrong, so for you to just become a complete b**** would be social suicide, and possibly give her reason to feel no regret or guilt over pursuing what is yours, so you're nice. Even though you want to not be nice. And did I mention there are two of them? Ugh!

So... that. That is on my mind a lot lately. And it's not fun.

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The topic second-most in my thoughts lately is someone else in my loop who is, quite frankly, driving me crazy with the way they are twisting Scripture.

Here's the deal: I was raised with certain Christian beliefs. Thru the years and my own journey to know God better I have come to realize that some of those beliefs were not biblical. Thru the years I have gone to churches of varying religious denominations, talked with believers with a multitude of differing views.

And here's the thing. If someone can show me in Scripture why what I have believed might be wrong, I have no problem accepting that I need to either change my beliefs, or dig deeper into the Word and into prayer and figure out what's going on. I have done this more than once. On some issues I now believe completely differently than how I was raised. On other issues digging deeper has done nothing more than to show me how biblically sound my beliefs were to begin with.

But if you can show me in the Word, if it is not only in the Word, but makes sense in the entire context of the passage, in the historical context of the day, in the sociological context, etc. If it all fits and makes sense, then we're good. We are open to considering it.

This person? Ugh. Pulls individual verses out of context constantly. Has been called on this repeatedly by several other believers, including myself, and still does it. When challenged they tend to either change the subject to another verse altogether, change the subject altogether, or shut down the conversation.

For whatever reason, they have come across an idea that they want to hold on to, they have found other likeminded individuals, and have made their minds up. No matter how many Scriptures you show them that contradict what they are saying, no matter how many times you explain that if you put that verse back in the context of the entire passage, then it doesn't really say that at all, if you usual actual historical fact to explain to them why what they are saying is just not factual... doesn't matter. Their mind has been made up and there is no talking to them.

And it frustrates the crap out of me. It bothers me. I have been talking to them and praying for them for months and it seems to be no avail. I just keep trusting that the Word of the Lord will not return void (Isaiah 55:11) and one day they will see the Light. It's just really hard for me to see them going down this path, because I know them. I know how they were raised. I know their parents. For some years we attended the same church. I know that they were raised in biblical Truth. So to see them turn their back on it, and pervert the Word of God and twist His Word... oh, it gets to me, right in the heart. It saddens me, and angers me, and worries me all at the same time.

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Lastly, the thing that's been on my mind is my recovery from vertical sleeve gastrectomy. I was five weeks out yesterday. The number everyone wants to know: I'm down 34 lbs. I've dropped one pants size and am on the verge of dropping another.

I feel better than I have in a long time, and I feel like I'm getting my life back.

I'm still on a restricted diet. I started on clear liquids, then pureed foods, and now I'm on soft foods. I will be on soft foods for another three months.

This topic needs its own post, so for now I will leave it at that.

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Hoping all of you are well! Thanks for checking in!




* I schedule out my posts to be published at 12noon, and have for years. So now ya know.

Man! I (don't) Feel Like a Woman

About a week ago, as I made my way to the couch for one of my regular pumping sessions*, Jason jokingly asked if I felt sexy. I answered, seriously, by telling him that not only do I not feel sexy, I don't even feel like a woman.

And it's the truth.

* I am breastfeeding & pumping, but supplementing with formula as my supply is only enough to provide roughly half of Jillian's needed feedings.

The irony is I'm doing what might actually be the most feminine, most womanly thing possible: I carried and then birthed a child, and I'm feeding her from my breast - yet I don't feel feminine at all.

It actually started towards the end of my pregnancy, and hasn't changed yet. I feel like some androgynous lump filling some basic natural need in procreation. Like a machine or something. My gender, my sex seems irrelevant.

I think it probably originated from all of the issues I had with this pregnancy. Not only did I have much higher priorities (ie. the health of my child & myself), but I was horribly uncomfortable during pretty much the entire pregnancy. My body was not my own.

While we still had sex on a fairly regular basis, it wasn't with near the frequency as pre-pregnancy, and quite frankly I don't even remember the last time I enjoyed it. Let me be clear though, that it's thru no fault of my husband's. As previously mentioned, my body was terribly uncomfortable & sometimes painful, my belly was so large so early on that it was difficult to maneuver, and sex was just awkward for me.

I wanted to. My husband was terribly patient and understanding, and to do so was usually my idea. But again, there was no enjoyment for me, and I often felt more like some androgynous being simply filling a purpose.

And while I think it's born out of respect for me, and trying to give me and my body the space it needs to heal, plus the fact that he's been super-busy with his business, the fact is my husband now doesn't seem interested in me at all. Not even a little bit.

Why tell you about my sex life? Because I think it has a direct affect on how I currently feel about my gender identification, or lack thereof.

As did my wardrobe. I know this seems all over the place, but bear with me.

Finding plus size maternity clothes that fit my every-growing gigantic belly was hard enough. Finding clothes that looked cute became near-impossible. My belly grew thru three different sizes of maternity clothes during my pregnancy. Not only was 'cute' hard to find, but our budget couldn't handle much more of these complete wardrobe changes. Nor did I have a lot of time to search near & far for the perfect clothes.

Eventually I stopped trying for clothes that I looked good in, and settled for anything that fit my body, covered all the necessary parts, and bonus if it met my employer's dress code.

Weeks post-partum I still wear maternity clothes the majority of the time. Sometimes paired with one of Jason's shirts. I have so far found one of my pre-pregnancy t-shirts that is large enough for me to wear comfortably. One shirt.

Why tell you about my wardrobe? Because I think my difficulty finding clothes that I felt looked good on me has a direct affect on how I currently feel.

I wish I knew how to explain how I feel. Sure, plenty of times in my life I have felt unattractive, but this goes beyond that. I honestly don't even feel like a woman. Whether or not I am attractive hasn't crossed my mind in months, except for the purpose of working out how I'm feeling about these issues. Which also didn't even cross my mind until recently. It just was what it was.

And so I sit here, bathed in androgyny, waiting for something, someone to help me feel like a woman again. We can work on 'attractive' later. Right now I just want to feel like a woman.

As always thanks for checking in.

All About the Hubs

This post is all about the hubs. I know my posting has been spotty lately, and I figured it was time for an update.

Jason is doing really well. The business he started last Spring has taken off even more than we expected, and we are looking forward to a very prosperous second year.

It’s a seasonal business (house washing, roof cleaning, etc.) and we only expected him to have jobs booked maybe thru October if we were lucky.

To our surprise he has been able to keep fairly steady work all the way thru December, and has already worked a couple of jobs in January!

Thanks mostly to the fickle weather around here we’ve had days warm enough for him to go out and work (it has to be 40 degrees or higher or his equipment will freeze up).

And also thanks in part to the two corporate contracts he was able to get. One is with a local credit union, and he cleans their walkways and teller drive-thrus quarterly. The other is with a local Chik-fil-A franchise. He cleans their walkways, entryway, and drive-thru twice monthly. Weather permitting, of course.

Jason has also been serving as an usher at our church for nearly a year now. He helps people find seats when it’s crowded (or even just if they’re new), passes the offering plate, and assists with anything else they need. Because our church is a little short on ushers right now, he ends up serving nearly every Sunday that he’s there.

It’s exciting to see him serve the Lord in this manner, and I’m very proud of him.

Most recently, the local water rescue team he’s a member of nominated & voted for him to be a liaison between the general membership and the officers. Honestly, I’m not really sure what this means exactly, other than he goes to an extra meeting every month, but he seems excited about it, so I’m trying to be too.

And of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention his role of Daddy. He’s been working hard to get our laundry room done, because we need to move things from our spare room into there, so we can convert the spare room into the nursery. I think he’s both excited & nervous to have another baby girl in the house, but I know he’s a great daddy to Jena and can’t wait to see him with his girls.

Anyway, that’s about the long & short of it for now.

As always, thanks for checking in!

So, whose fault is it anyway?

Alright, I need to say this. Seriously, it’s a need. As in, if I don’t put it out there, I’m going to explode.

Recently a married couple who are close to me had their marital struggles come to a head when the wife discovered that the husband has been having an affair. For at least a year.

It sucks. It’s a horrible situation. I feel for her. My heart breaks for her. I pray for both of them. While I’m angry at him, I also know that part of him is hurting too.

But that’s not really what this post is about. This is about the reactions I’m seeing around me.

You see, my circle is (mostly) closer to him. I may be the only one in my circle who had a closer relationship with her.

And the reactions of those around me to the situation are blowing my mind.

Why?

Because there has been far more criticism of how she is reacting to the news, than to the fact that he did it at all.

You see, she chose to inform the world via Facebook. Now, not the best idea, I agree. And I think she agrees as well, as she deleted her original post announcing his cheating heart.

She now occasionally posts things about wondering how someone who was supposed to love you could be so mean, how heartbroken she is, etc. but nothing directly about the cheating.

But all I hear is:

“Can you believe she posted that on Facebook?!?”

“She shouldn’t have spread the word like that. It’s not helping anything.”

“Isn’t she thinking about their kids at all? Can you imagine reading that on Facebook about your own father?”

And so on and so forth.

Here’s the thing. I agree… to a point. But it would be much easier for me to agree with them if they said one word about what he did.

Where are the exclamations of:

“Can you believe he did that to her?!?”

“He shouldn’t have been unfaithful like that. It does no good.”

“Wasn’t he thinking about their kids at all?!? Can you imagine being unfaithful to your children’s mother?!?”

What bothers me isn’t so much the criticism of her actions (Although, personally, I’m not in that position, and I’m also a firm believer in if it happened to you then it’s your story to tell. If she finds it helpful to put it out there, it’s her story), what bothers me is the lack of criticism of his actions.

How can you criticize her reaction to the news, but not be just slamming him for what he did to cause the news? He broke his marital vows. He cheated on his wife of 20 years. He snuck, and lied, and cheated.

How can you criticize her reaction without judging him for creating the news? After all, if he had never done it, she would have nothing to talk about.

Again, do I think plastering such information on social media is the best way to handle these situations? No. But then again I’m not in her position (and by the way, neither are any of the people making these critiques of her actions).

But it blows my mind how they can feel comfortable criticizing her, without judging him 100 times as harshly for his actions.

And it’s kinda pissing me off.

That's all for now. As always, thanks for checking in.

How Far We've Come

Sometimes it's nice to look back at where we were in the past. It can be amazing how far we've come in a relatively short amount of time:

One Year Ago:
Things were just starting to calm down. After my father-in-law's passing in April, followed by my nephew's overdose in May, plus some major changes at work, last year was rather hectic and stressful. By September things were beginning to resemble something closer to normal. Finally.

Two Years Ago:
I was battling a bevy of health issues: my legs & feet were tingling from my spinal injury, I was struggling with some major digestive issues, and finally met with a pulmonologist about my recurrent cough. As you know, everything turned out okay in the end. This was also Jena's first Summer at preschool.

Three Years Ago:
We were house hunting, struggling in our marriage, and I was fighting major depression. I was busting my butt at the gym & following a strict diet, only to not see any results, as my metabolic disorder was as yet undiagnosed. We were just beginning to realize Jena may be speech delayed, and she was still watched by my parents full-time.

Four Years Ago:
Wow. Four years ago I started my blog. While I struggled with post-partum depression & anxiety, I was blissfully unaware of the marital issues that were lurking around the corner. Jason was getting ready to start medic school, Jena was a toddling machine.

Five Years Ago:
I was hugely pregnant, madly in love, and looking forward to starting our family, as we celebrated with baby showers and 4D ultrasounds. The pregnancy and dreams of our little girl pretty much consumed our lives at this point.

Six Years Ago:
We were engaged and busily planning our upcoming wedding. Invitations would be going out right about now. I had finished my Open Water certification and we did quite a bit of diving that Summer. Fun!

Seven Years Ago:
It was around this time that I knew I wanted to marry Jason. We had been dating only a few short months, but I just knew. We spent the Summer going to festivals, taking walks, and just being in love. I had finally had my back surgery earlier in the year, so was enjoying my first pain-free Summer in what seemed like forever.

Eight Years Ago:
Single and unattached, work was  pretty much my life. I was just beginning to look at apartments closer to work, and I still volunteered with my college marching band. I was also on the Alumni Band Board of Governors. In other words, I kept busy. Post-accident but pre-surgery I was in pain daily, and often walked hunched over.

Nine Years Ago:
Still enthralled with my new job and employer (where I am now), I also struggled with boredom. My previous jobs had been fast-paced and the work endless, but I now was constantly asking for more work. Fresh out of a relationship, I was constantly scouting the engineers at my new workplace (it's true!). I volunteered with my college marching band, which kept me fairly busy.

Ten Years Ago:
Actively searching for work, desperate to leave my job with the bad manager (as it's become to be known). I was miserable with my job, volunteered with my college marching band, and usually took seasonal jobs as a trumpet, marching, or drum major instructor with local high schools. Yes, I was (and still am) a total band nerd, LOL.

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It's amazing how much our lives can change in a relative short amount of time, isn't it? I feel like the past 8 years especially have been a whirlwind.

What about you? How has your life changed in recent years?

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this post inspired by this post

List of Gratitude

If I'm being honest, I've been struggling a lot lately with a lack of gratitude. Well, more precisely I guess you could call it envy. I've watched as some of the people in my circle seem to be getting all of the things I long for. Sometimes it is so precisely exactly what I was wanting, that I almost want to accuse them of doing it just to spite me. Which is ridiculous.

So in an effort to help refocus my mind on what I do have, instead of what I do not, I've decided to do a gratitude post. Enjoy!

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I am thankful for:

my husband So many years I spent thinking I would never find anyone to love me (not forever, anyway), that I would possibly never be married, yet here I am. Married for 6 years now to my best friend.

my daughter She is the incarnation of every dream I ever had about motherhood. She is the fulfillment of my calling, my reason for existence. She amazes me every day.

our home I've always wanted to own land. Our little ranch house on 5.5 acres is perfect. Sure, I'd like to develop it some more: a barn, fencing, etc. But it's the living area I always dreamed of having.

our critters I can't imagine myself without sharing my life with some of God's creatures. Three dogs, two cats, and 10 chickens are enough. For now. I am thankful that none of us have allergies that prevent us from having these wonderful companions in our lives.

my family I am blessed to come from a large extended family, and can't imagine my life any other way. We gather religiously at every holiday, often in gatherings of 50 or more people. They are an amazing group, and a source of strength in my life.

my job While sometimes I lament not being a SAHM, the truth is I like my job. I work with people I genuinely care about, I've learned a multitude of new skills, I'm respected in certain circles, there is opportunity for broadening my horizons. Add to that decent pay and amazing benefits and I have truly been blessed in this area.

our church Our church is amazing. The outreach to the community, the opportunities to serve, the teachings, the friendships... we have gained so much by joining this particular house of worship.

our finances While things could certainly be better, and they have, we are doing okay. We can pay all of our bills, and even have a little left over. Plus we have some in savings. All in all, we're doing well.

social media I end on the medium that brought me to blogging: social media. I started blogging via MySpace, and eventually expanded to a "real" blog. I've met friends thru blogging that turned into real life friends, I've reconnected with old friends via MySpace & Facebook, I've met friends via message boards, and shared my thoughts on Twitter. Social media has been good for me.

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Please pray for me to continue to turn my mindset around. And as always, thanks for checking in!

A Little Close for Comfort

And then there was the time my husband scared me to death.

During our talk, our really good talk, it came out that Jason had been having chest pains. For three weeks.

There was an incident about three weeks ago when he had severe chest pains that lasted about a minute. Ever since then, he would feel pressure in his chest whenever he took a deep breath.

Considering his father, who passed away recently from a massive heart attack, had is first massive heart attack at a relatively young age (52), I was immediately worried, scared, and yes, angry that he hadn't told me. Upset that he didn't seem to be taking it seriously.

It's possibly I may have over-reacted, simultaneously sobbing & raising my voice, accused him of being selfish & stupid & prideful.

It's possible this is a little close for comfort.

So the next chance I had I scheduled an appointment with our family doctor. We got in same day. I left work to go with him.

They checked him out. Listened to his story. Did an EKG.

Everything appears normal. They believe it was an anxiety attack.

Now that he's been checked out, I will concur. The entire family has been under an enormous amount of stress since his father's passing, with both his mother & brother showing signs of depression. Jason was the only one who seemed unaffected.

But I knew it was all for show.

We did get a talk about Jason getting more fit. He has a strong family history of heart issues, and needs to take precaution.

The truth is that I do as well.

Our doctor recommended more physical activity to be the priority, with eating better a close second. He said when it comes to heart health it's much more important to be fit than to be thin. Will you lose weight if you do those things? Probably. Is that what you should focus on? Not so much.

Get more fit. Get your body in shape. Healthy. Strong. That is the focus.

The truth is, the whole situation scared the crap out of me. Holding-back-the-tears scared. Terrified.

Because the truth is, good or bad, hurt or healed, when it comes right down to it, I want him next to me. He's the one I want. Forever. And I'm not ready to let go of him just yet.

FireMan - what's he been doing anyway?

Just a quick little update on Jason.

He's doing well. Still adjusting to life without his dad, which is difficult.

As you may (or may not) recall, he is a full time firefighter, working 24/48 (24 hours on, 48 hours off).
Like many firefighters in our area, the pay doesn't quite cut it, so he also works a 2nd job maintaining & repairing fire trucks at the fire house.
On top of that, he has his own business maintaining, repairing, and otherwise working on emergency vehicles (fire trucks, ambulances, security vehicles, etc).

While his business is doing well, he's hit a bump at his second job where not only is he no longer satisfied with the work, but the fact that they pay is roughly half what he can make elsewhere... let's just say he's a little burnt out.

So he's been looking for income elsewhere, and hasn't worked any hours at his second job in nearly 2 months. Odd jobs, fixing up & selling cars, fixing up & selling lawnmowers... really, whatever.

So far (the past 2 months) he's managed to bring in pretty close to what he would have made at his second job.

I know he's not happy there any longer, and have actually encouraged him to go ahead & quit. As long as the income is similar, I'm okay with that.

He's been fairly active with the local (volunteer) water rescue team this summer, primarily by performing boat patrols along the river. He's always enjoyed boat patrol, and even moreso this year, as he is now a boat operator, having completed the training / testing at the end of last season.

New this year, he recently began volunteering with the media team at our church. He's primarily been working as a camera operator during the services, filming the preaching for later broadcast on the internet. I'm really proud of him!

Around the house he's kept busy with a never-ending list of projects. Lately these are: cutting up the hickory tree that was felled in our last big storm (yay free firewood!), finally building the dogs a real doghouse (as opposed to the functional, yet ugly, one we created from home renovation scraps), and landscaping the front of the house (untouched since we'd moved in).

Between work, volunteering, home projects, and family, he's definitely keeping busy.

Which is good because:
    a) he's never happy if he's bored
    b) it keeps him out of trouble

So that's a quick update on my FireMan. As always, thanks for checking in!

What are you whining about?

What are you whining about ??

What am I whining about? Seriously?

I'm tired. I'm tired of being sad. I'm tired of being on an emotional roller coaster.

I wish my husband were home more this week.

I wish I had someone to help me with Jena so I wouldn't feel so strained all the time. And yet...

I wish I had more time with Jena. Good, long, quality time - not just trying to get life done.

I wish I felt more committed to my job. Or better - I wish I had a job that was more meaningful to me. I wish I could find one.

I want this fat to melt off. And the skin to tighten and the boobs to lift all at the same time. As if by magic. I'm tired of watching what I eat.

Ugh. I'm still gonna post it, but I've decided I don't like this post. I don't wanna whine. I want to be grateful. Let's turn it into that.

I'm grateful for my awesome family. I'm grateful to have so much love in my life.

I'm grateful to be in good health and pain free. I know from experience this isn't always guaranteed.

I'm grateful for my daughter. My amazing, wonderful, daughter.

I'm grateful for my husband, his love, and all he does for our family.

I'm grateful to be part of a good God-focused, outward-focused church.

I'm grateful to have a job with good people, doing good work, that also pays me good money and awesome benefits.

I'm grateful that we are financially stable, and improving.

There, that's better.

As always, thanks for checking in.

Why I Talk About PPD

Sometimes I wonder if I should be so open & honest about my struggles with depression & PTSD. Until I get messages like this one (names redacted):

"I know we haven't talked directly in like 10 years, and if what I'm going to ask is too personal, I totally understand.

My son was born a month ago, and I've come to realize that my wife is suffering from post partum depression. I know I saw some post from you on the matter a while back so I was hoping for some thoughts/advice.

I encouraged her to talk to her OB and he suggested going shopping, which felt like he wasn't taking her seriously.

I'm not real sure what I'm trying to ask you, I just feel a little lost and helpless. So if you have any thoughts/ advice /prayers please send them my and my wife's way."

This is why I tell others about my experience.
Because there are still medical professionals telling women a shopping trip will help their PPD.
Because husbands want desperately to help their wives, but don't know where to start.
Because women need to know they are not alone, and there is hope.

If we're gonna be friends...

... you should probably know a few things about me upfront. I'd hate for you to be surprised later, and then have to break off our friendship, and then we're all upset about it and stuff.

So, here, in no particular order, are some things about me that you may (or may not) find to be a dealbreaker:

- I'm a Christian. I believe Christ is the only way to Heaven.

- I have a husband and a kid. They are my earthly priority, and as much as I'd like to spend loads of time with you and give you my undivided attention when they're around, that's probably not gonna happen. At least not until Jena is much, much older.

- I'm not a big fan of little dogs. I tolerate them, but they annoy me. Dogs should be big.
    related: I will not treat your dog like a baby. I loves me some pets, but they're animals, not infant humans.

- My memory is not good. I blame a lingering "mom-brain". Or my advanced age. If only I could remember when it started... The point is I may completely blank out on important stuff... like your name... even if I've known you for years. Sorry.

- I don't like beer. At all. Nor do I plan on drinking a beverage until it "grows on me" as some have suggested. I'm not sure why this bothers some people, but it does. I find all beer yucky.

- I'm slightly OCD. And by "slightly" I mean I'm OCD but I do a pretty good job of not letting it affect those around me. Unless you're my husband. Or my daughter. But I will straighten the towels in the bathroom. Yes... your bathroom.

- I have a strange need for air. Which shouldn't seem weird, but apparently I need more air flow than most. Or at least, more than my husband. But I actually get physically ill if there's not enough air circulating so I tend to do things like turn the air up in the car and/or roll down a window, even if it's cold. I just need air, 'kay?

- I don't like to dance. Inviting me to anywhere-that-requires-dancing is basically asking me to stand against a wall for extended periods of time. Sometimes I'm okay with that, but I am not okay with you guilting me to join you on the dance floor.

- I'm a night owl. I am actually most productive between the hours of 10pm & 2am. Except I have a job now, and a kid. So having fun between those hours doesn't happen much anymore.
    related: I am not a morning person. I am grumpy and unreasonably hateful when I first wake up. You're better to leave me alone until I've warmed up to the day.
    related: I hate coffee. Even flavored coffees. I've tried the "sweetest" (using that term loosely), and it's still way too bitter for me.

- I tend to run late to things. Especially things that are scheduled in the morning (see above). Even things I think are important. I never used to, and have psycho-analyzed why I can't seem to be on time now, but that's much longer than will fit in this post.

- I don't like seafood. Unless you count canned tuna. But most people don't. I also don't like oriental food (Chinese, Thai, Japanese, etc). I've found a very few items that I like in those cuisines, but not enough for me to pay for an entire meal that I'm not likely to eat. So if you plan on eating there a lot, I'm out.

- I have a 1st shift, 9-5ish job. This means that no, I cannot meet you in the middle of the week in mid-morning. If you wanna get together, it'll have to be an evening or weekend.

I think that completes the list. Well, the list of things I can think of right now that some people might be disturbed to realize later. I'm sure there are other things about me that might annoy the heck out of you as well, but I guess those we'll just have to wait to stumble upon later.

As always, thanks for checking in!

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This post inspired by this post.

Well Hello, Cold-Air-Induced-Cough-Variant-Asthma...

... or whatever it is you actually are.

But cold air induced, cough variant asthma is the best diagnosis any doctor, other person, or internet has ever given me. Suggested by a co-worker, I spent way-too-much time trying to find information on the internet. There wasn't much. But it's a much better fit than the "I don't know" that most doctors have given me.

Every winter I have severe coughing fits. Severe as in people who aren't familiar with them will ask me (seriously) if I need them to call for help, or if I am dying.

For me, they are just a part of life. See, I had my first major coughing fit when I was nine months old. I was hospitalized for it, before given a diagnosis of bronchitis, a diagnosis that would follow me for the rest of my life, but that I no longer believe to be accurate.

These fits start right about the first cold spell of the year, and end with the last. I mean, I don't have them every single day of the winter, but... enough.

The longest run that I remember was the year in my early 20s when they started in September and lasted thru March. That was a rough year.

And this happening-during-the-winter thing resulted in me being wrongly diagnosed with an allergy to "furnace dust" (whatever that is) for several years when I was a child. Although I see why it sorta made sense - they started about the time the furnace had to be turned on, and stopped right about the time it got warm enough to turn it off.

During my school days I usually ended up missing at least a week-ish of school during the winter months, but it was really more due to exhaustion than the actual coughing, as to get any sleep at all I have to sleep sitting up, which isn't truly restful, and after doing that for weeks... well, something's gotta give.

And that's where I found myself about a month ago. In the middle of my first coughing fit spell of the year, I spent four of the five nights sleeping sitting up in the recliner. And ready to pass out by mid-afternoon. It's exhausting.

But I digress. I do continue to work (in [many] years past school), as my parents came to realize early on that whatever this is, doesn't appear to be contagious, as no one, no one, around me has ever gotten it, including family or close friends. Ever.

And since I went to the same fairly small school for K thru 12, it means that the staff was fairly familiar too, so no one ever tried to send me home. At least not that I recall.

What it does mean though, is that throughout the winter months, if I happen to catch so much as a sniffle, I'm done for. For weeks. So yes, I am that person that gets really annoyed when people come to work snotting all over telephones and door handles. Because your minor cold will set me back for weeks.

Anywho... asthma does run in my family. Like, the normal kind anyway. So the asthma thing does kinda make sense. And having had pleurosy twice during frigid winter months and being told that my lungs are sensitive to cold air and I should make sure I'm breathing through a scarf when walking in freezing temperatures... well, that seems to back up the cold-air-induced thing. And clearly it would have to be cough-variant, as the only sort of wheezing involved is when the coughing fit lasts so long that I am sucking in air to fill my lungs back up.

Random, but have you ever coughed so hard that your body bends into itself, so when the coughs repeat you almost look like you're having some weird seizure? No? Just me? Moving on then...

Oh, and while advice is appreciated, because I understand their good intentions, telling me to take cough syrup or Nyquil... well, I mean... c'mon, do you seriously think that in 34 years I never thought of that? The fact is that cough suppressants of any type have minimal, if any, effect. Honestly I'm better off taking a sleeping pill to get some rest, than trying to contain the cough at all.

But, in reality, the fact is that I am blessed. Oh sure, this really sucks. But at the same time, like I mentioned before, for me it's really just a way of life. The only time it really sucks is when people stare at me, or when it truly interrupts others' lives, like my family.

But luckily my husband and my daughter both sleep like rocks. So that's not really an issue most of the time. And all of my family, and friends who have been around long enough, realize what it is and how to ignore it because no, I am not gonna die. And most of my co-workers have been there long enough to realize that not only am I not contagious, it sounds worse than it is, and no, I am not gonna die.

So, for the most part, it is simply an annoyance for me for a few months of the year. And an occasional embarrassment, when I come across someone who is not familiar with my condition (whatever it actually is).

The only thing I do worry about is FireGirl. It appears that she has inherited this condition (whatever it really is). The good thing is that for her, it appears to be much better controlled when we keep the temp in the house at least 72 degrees during the winter months. Which is much warmer than we did before she came along, and raises our heating bill a bit, but well worth it.

Of course, that only adds to the cold-air-induced theory, doesn't it?

So that's that. And now you know a little bit more about me. Thanks for checking in.

Ends up, I'm angry

Who knew?

I didn't.

I don't didn't don't feel angry.

But... it showed up the other night. Out of nowhere. And to be honest, I'm not really sure what to do with this anger, how to process it.

I'm angry with my husband for not being on board with wanting more children.

And for making plans (in his head) for our future that are completely different from what my plans are.

And for telling me what I want is crazy.

I'm angry with my sister for moving half-way across the country.

I'm angry with one of my best friends for moving all the way across the country.

I'm angry with my ex for being so... weird... about stuff that it's virtually impossible to be friends with his wife anymore, because she & I were once really good friends. And I need good friends.

I'm angry with my brother for constantly twisting my words and making me out to be a bad person, even when what I'm trying to do is really good.

I'm angry.

All this stuff just came pouring out of me at once the other night. All this and more. I guess I've been holding it in. So much so that I didn't even realize I was feeling this anger inside.

My mind was flooded, overwhelmed with resentment at so many people, at God, at the world, at myself.

Apparently, I'm angry.

And I didn't even know it.

A few months ago an acquaintance of mine told me I was angry. And I was all like "ummm... no. Really, I'm fine. Doing the best I have in a long time. But thanks for your opinion"

Ends up she was right after all. Not sure what she saw, but she saw something I didn't. I totally didn't see this coming.

And I think the hardest part is that I'm angry, but I'm not.

I mean, I can't begrudge FireMan for wanting what he wants, or not wanting what I want. Just because we want different things isn't a reason to be angry with him.

I can't be angry with my sister because her husband lost his job and needed to move a few states away to find work to support their family.

I can't be angry with my friend because her husband needed to move across the country to find work.

I can't really be angry with my ex for being... weird... because exes are supposed to be weird to us after we break up.

I can't really be angry with my brother because he just has issues that he needs to deal with.

And I can't be angry with God because I know that He will work everything out for my good in the end.

And I can't really be angry with myself because I know that I am on my own journey and just trying to do the best that I can, which is also true of everyone I just mentioned.

So this anger is a different kind of anger, because while I am angry with these people, I'm really not. But I can't really say that I'm angry with God or myself or the world or anything like that either.

It's more like this very vague, but simultaneously very specific anger inside. And I have no idea how to process it because it's just such a different kind of emotion from what I've experienced before.

Or... (this thought comes as I type)... maybe it's still revealing itself. Maybe discovering that anger is just part of me discovering myself again. Maybe this is a process. Maybe this is part of the journey.

I guess that's it for now. Just watch out! Because apparently, FireWife is angry.

As always, thanks for checking in.

Girlfriends (aka The Good, The Bad, the Socially Inept)

The other day I went out with a couple of girlfriends. One a long-time friend, one I've only known a few months. Both very good friends.

The three of us get along fantastically, and have been trying to work out our schedules literally for months. I eventually ended up using a vacation day to make it work.

And it was well worth it.

We met at IKEA, and walked and talked and walked and chatted and walked and shopped and talked.

Then we went to dinner and talked some more. In the parking lot we just couldn't shut up so we decided to do dessert, and kept on talking.

It was very, very good.

It was refreshing. It was renewing. It was healing. It was just about every good word that ends in -ing wrapped up in one afternoon that dragged on into evening.


And it reminded me that I need more girlfriends.

I've never had a lot of girlfriends. For whatever reason I found it easier to connect with the boys. So I always had a lot of guy friends (not boyfriends, mind you, but that's a whole 'nother blog post), but relatively few girlfriends.

And I've been pretty okay with that, to be honest.

I mean, the girls I have been close with... are awesome. So I didn't need many. And I always had those guy friends too. So my social circle was full. I had a great family. Got plenty of support. Life was good.

Since I've written about them before, I won't delve into it again, but some things happened in my past that left me feeling defenseless, and I pushed away some of my friends, and I built up a wall, and I developed some trust issues, as well as a good dose of social anxiety.

Not the best for developing close relationships with people.

I kept my family close, but not many friends.

But recently, some of the closest people in my life have literally been moved across the world. Literally.

First, one of my best friends' husbands got relocated to California. Then my sister got transplanted to Iowa. Then one of my oldest friends follows God's call to teach in Africa.

While I was left with a lot of good acquaintances, my friends were all gone. Literally, physically moved away from me.

I hesitate in writing that line. I hope no one is taking offense, thinking "hey - I'm your friend". So let me explain.

In this post, by "friend", I mean a close friend, the one you can stay up talking to all night, who can call you at any hour for any reason, who is as close as family or closer, who you can't imagine your life without, the one when you were younger you imagined being your maid of honor in your wedding and living next door to raising your children together.

I need some good girlfriends. Some more gal acquaintances would be nice too.

Of course, working with all men doesn't help things.

Don't get me wrong, they're great guys, but... not only am I a little hesitant about the befriending-a-coworker thing, I'm also a little hesitant about the whole befriending-a-married-man thing too, you know?

So... where was I?

Oh, yeah. Girlfriends are awesome. I am so jealous when I see girlfriends out together, or see people post on Facebook or Twitter or their blog about their gal pals and how they just hang out, casually as can be.

Because on the rare occasions that I do get to see any of my very few girlfriends, it seems to take so much effort.

Coordinating the schedules of even just two of us can sometimes take weeks to find a date to get together.

The message boards that I used to belong to, and still talk to quite a few of the ladies from, well - they get together quite often. During the day. Not always formal get-togethers, but playdates & such. During the week. During the day.
Of the numerous more formal get-togethers they've arranged over the past four years, I was only able to make it to one.

I volunteered to organize one once, and after surveying for good times & places, selecting a time, and choosing a place that was convenient for the majority, but would make me drive an hour to get there, we only had 1 person besides myself RSVP, so it was cancelled.

And it doesn't help that I'm completely socially inept.

Confession? I don't know how to make friends.

And when I try, I tend to fail. And then I feel like a big fat loser that nobody likes. And when you feel like that, you're not exactly appealing to potential friends.

Trying to make new friends is a lot like dating.

Confession? I hated dating.

Examples of my trying fails? Sure:

Tried to do something nice for someone at work. Got accused of being a stalker.

Tried to do something nice for an old college friend. Was told I was being "too nice", and must have ulterior motives.

Threw a party. Invited 120 people (no lie). Five showed up.

Threw another party. Invited 75 people. Six showed up. But two of those were my parents, so...

With their blessings, sent out a mass text prayer request for a friend. Trying to be nice & supportive, right?
- had one person respond that I was invading privacy by sending it out regardless of whether or not I had permission and reamed me for "overstepping my bounds"
- had another person accuse me of doing it to draw attention to myself
- had yet another person yell at me for "scaring them to death" because they got a text about a random person being sent to the hospital and they couldn't imagine what had happened (apparently they were driving and in & out of dead spots and only got half the message, but it was my fault, even after I showed them the whole message, and I just shouldn't send things like that).

And my husband wonders why I have social anxiety, why I don't put myself out there more. It seems like even when I try to be a friend to others, to be nice, to do something good for someone else, I'm either ignored, or it gets twisted around and I somehow end up the bad guy. Again.

I swear I'm not a bad guy. I'm not.

I'm not perfect, but I'm good. And I'm nice. And I try really hard to do right by other people. I do my best to be fair.
Again, I'm not perfect, but I certainly am not bad.  Really, I'm not.

And when I put myself out there and try to be friendly to others, open my home up to others... no one comes.

And yes, I realize I'm rambling right now.

***********************

I guess what I'm trying to say is that the other night made it even more evident to me how much I need good girlfriends in my life. A good, strong support system. Good friends to laugh with and cry with and share life with. To share their lives with them.

And I want that. I really do.

And maybe the problem is that I'm trying to force it, and relationships like that can't be forced, but they sure as heck aren't just falling in my lap either.

This post seems rather disjointed to me. A little rambl-y, I suppose. Just putting some thoughts out there.

All I'm saying is I need some good girlfriends. I want some good girlfriends. I've been trying to make some more friends, to make more time for friends, to make it more of a priority for me... but it just doesn't seem to be working.

I end up with a few really good nights, interspersed with a lot of bad nights. It's depressing. And it reminds me so much of dating: you know, mostly rejection. For me, anyway.

I recently had an acquaintance tell me that to make more friends I need to "show yourself friendly". To be honest, it kinda ticked me off. I mean, really? Because I thought being a big fat jerk-wad was a good way to make friends. Seriously! But I already told you, it's like even when I try to be nice, it blows up in my face. I try to be friendly, I try to open myself up... and it doesn't seem to work.

Maybe I just don't know how to "show myself friendly". Whatever.

Anyway. Those are my random thoughts right now.

Thanks for checking in

Not Just Another Blog Challenge #10 - A Change in Your Life You've Been Wanting

 

Well, if you've been around here very long at all, you can probably guess that my change would be to become a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM).

How do I think this would change my life?

Well, on an abstract level, I believe I would be less stressed, because I would no longer be trying to juggle the working world and the home life, no longer feeling the pressures of contributing to our family's finances, plus 95% of the housework and the vast majority of the child care and the greater part of the animal care as well. I wouldn't be so overwhelmed that I felt like I was drowning and / or failing most days.

This decrease in stress level would reverberate to my relationships with my husband and my daughter, as well as my extended family and my friendships, even my pets. All would improve. Or have a better opportunity to improve, at least.

On a more concrete level, we would obviously be doing better financially, since we couldn't make this change without already being there.
And I would have more time.
Ah, sweet time.

Let's look at today, for instance. What difference would being a SAHM make to my day (theoretically, since I don't really know).

Real Life (as a working mom): I've been fighting off an illness for over a week, so I overslept. Again. Woke up and was immediately rushing around trying to get everything ready to get FireGirl & myself out the door at a decent time. Had planned on packing my lunch, but no time this morning. FireGirl has also not been feeling well and has been sleeping in. I don't usually have to wake her up, but at 8:05am, I have to. I've got everything ready to go, except her. Bring her clothes to her in bed, dress her, still in bed, carry her to the car. Buckle her in, and floor it to the preschool. We got there so late we missed breakfast. Her classmates are already back in the classroom. So I sit with her while she eats breakfast by herself. Walk her to her room, put her things in her cubby, say goodbye. Drive to work and get there at 9:15am (I know, still pretty impressive, huh?). Work 8 1/2 hours. Drive to preschool. Pick up FireGirl. Drive home. Arrive home a little after 6pm. Thank goodness for a short commute. Make dinner. Eat dinner, finish around 7pm. She plays while I start her bath. Bath time is the most 1x1 quality time we'll have together today, without distractions, and including washing, playtime, drying, and putting on PJs will probably last until around 8pm. She'll help me change the chickens' bedding, and it's now 8:30pm. Watch a show or read 2 books (her choice), hopefully in bed by 9pm. After being quiet for 15-20 minutes to make sure she's asleep (open floor plan + nosy toddler = if we're not quiet she gets up to see what we're doing), I'll fold a load of laundry, put another load of laundry in the wash, do the dishes, and begin clipping coupons for tomorrow's grocery trip. At some point I'll feed the dogs and the cat. Hopefully I won't pass out from exhaustion, and will be able to do at least 2 loads of laundry tonight, plus I have two gigs coming up, so I really need to sit down and go thru those materials within the next few days, so that would be nice too. And while there are about 50 other things on my To Do List, those are the minimum for me to do tonight and not feel like a slacker. I should get to bed between midnight and 1am.

If I were a SAHM? : Well, I don't know how long we would have slept, but since we're both fighting illness, we need to rest and get better. So... let's say I woke up at 8am. Folded some laundry & put another load in. Had breakfast waiting on FireGirl when she woke up at 9am (cold breakfast - just because I'm suddenly a SAHM doesn't mean I've learned how to cook... yet). We casually eat breakfast, then clear our plates. I take a shower & get dressed while she plays in her room or reads. Then I get her dressed. We play a game together. I put another load of laundry in (or not, maybe I wouldn't be so behind on laundry if I stayed home). I promise her we can paint after lunch if she plays by herself for a while, so she does and I do the dishes. Then we eat lunch. Maybe tomato soup (her favorite). After clearing the table, it's time for paint. We do paint, and then maybe Play-doh, or craft. Something else that causes a mess. Because why not? Then it's rest time / quiet play and I send her to her room (we actually do rest time / quiet play on weekends). I proceed to clip coupons for tonight's grocery trip. Since she's not been feeling well, she falls asleep sooner than usual, after about 30 min. After I finish the coupons, I tackle the chore list: maybe some dusting or sweeping? A few simple things I can fit in during her nap, nothing major. Go outside and spend a few minutes with the dogs. Around 5pm I start dinner (I don't know what, like I can cook yet, right?). She wakes up soon after, and we eat around 5:30pm. Then we head to the grocery store. Home around 7:30pmpm, straight to bath time, but not quite so long since we've had good play time together the rest of the day. Nighttime routine is similar. She's still in bed by about 9pm. I relax on the couch for 30 min while she falls asleep. Feed the pets. Go thru my items for the upcoming gigs. Check the clock. It's 11pm and I decide to head to bed.

See the difference? I do. I really do.

And just like every day now is different, every day as a SAHM would be different to, so that's just one possible scenario. But do you see the difference? The chores that I have to save for the evening are done in the afternoon, and more! The grocery shopping I'll have to wait and do tomorrow, would get done today! The time I would have to read and play games with my daughter, just to be with her. I mean, do you see the difference?

I do.

Still busy. Very busy, in fact. But what a difference. What a real difference.

So... what's a change you've been wanting in your life? How do you think it would change things for you?

Is Anyone's Life NOT a Stumble-Upon ??

Last month Kelle Hampton wrote a great post about how we stumble upon awesome things in life. That really got me thinking.

First, about how my life is such a stumble-upon. Like... just about everything, it seems. A million little accidental findings that have turned out to be the best scenario for me. Ever.

And then I got to thinking... is anyone's life not a stumble-upon? Does anyone out there actually live according to their plans? Does anyone not just stumble thru life, coming upon the things we do and things we have mostly by... accident... fate... God?

Of course, we do have a choice... free will... We choose whether or not to turn down that inviting street, go into that unique shop, "wink" back at that cute guy.

We stumble upon things that are different than where we are, what we are doing, and we decide if we want to take the risk in exploring the stumble-upon that is tugging at us, or go back to road we were travelling safely a few moments before.

We stumble upon these things that we weren't looking for, but almost seem as though they were looking for us. And when we feel that pull, that tug towards the stumble-upon... well, it's hard to resist that tug towards the unknown. The previously unknown.

It appears I do a lot of stumbling.

Like how I met my husband.

And how he stumbled upon our house while helping his parents look for one of their own.

And how I got Tucker because, well, it seemed like a good day to get a cat. The tug was strong that day, practically driving me to the shelter.

And Jena? Most definitely a blessed stumble-upon.

Diving with the manatees? Stumbled upon.

My major in college? Stumbled upon.

Joining the college band? Stumbled upon.

So many things. So many things not planned. Not planned in my wildest dreams. But stumbled upon when I wasn't looking for them. There they were, tugging at my heart, begging me to turn down the next street, veer off the road I was on, change my course...

My life is one big stumble-upon. And I couldn't be happier about it.

PPD related: Yeah, I recognize(d) this in me

I came across this posting a while back about indecisiveness as a symptom of PPD.

It struck a chord.

I can be indecisive at times anyway, but I distinctly remember... not caring, not knowing, wanting, but not wanting, probably being a general pain in the butt to those around me.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your point of view), I also seem to remember being weak enough mentally & emotionally that, at least for a while, I just let everyone rule my life, accepted decisions, did as I was told.

It was enough for me just to make it thru the day. Making a decision and get thru the day? Geez! What more do you want from me?!?

I was fortunate enough to have those around me, mainly my husband and my mother, who I think saw this in me. Maybe they didn't realize it at the time, but they acted just how I needed them to... they told me what to do.

Sometimes I didn't like it. Sometimes I cried over it. Sometimes, it didn't seem fair. And sometimes I felt like I was losing control (duh, like I was in control anyway, right?)

Example? Sure. I only saw my Ob for PPD because my mommy told me to. I didn't think I had a problem. I thought it was normal "baby blues". But I was unable to make a decision, so mommy told me to make an appointment? Okay, I'll make an appointment.

See... sometimes it's a good things for others to take the reins in your life. As long as they are doing so with love, because there is a real need... this is why we need loved ones in our lives whom we trust. Because for each one of us there comes a time when we find ourselves relying on someone else, whether we realize it at the time or not.

Mostly... it was what I needed to happen, what our family needed to happen, so we could all get thru this period of time.

It's all a healing process, and reading that post, even now, nearly three years later, serves me. I didn't know why I was that way, other than that I knew I was weak in those moments. I had no idea that it could be a sign of PPD. No idea at all.

I didn't find that blog until after my treatment for PPD was through. But I still check it regularly. I love it because it's not your run-of-the-mill site, listing "usual" symptoms, telling you to talk to your Ob if you suspect you have it. It's written by real women, has links to real help, and resources for real families - all who have personal experience with Post Partum Depression.

Supermom has left the building.

or that's how I feel at least.

I cried on my way to work this morning. Because I hate who I am weekday mornings. Rushing around, ushering FireGirl to get up, eat her breakfast, get dressed, and out the door.

Even on days we don't fight, which are the majority anymore (thank the Lord!), I still hate who I am on those mornings.

It feels so... cold, so unfeeling. I swear I don't even think I saw FireMan this morning, till I was hurriedly pulling out the driveway.

It's get up, do this, c'mon, I said "do this", are you doing this?, why aren't you doing this?

It stresses me. It stresses her.

I hate who I am weekday mornings.

So I cried on my way to work this morning. Because I hated who I was at that moment.

But I don't know how else to do it. How else do you get up and get yourself and a toddler ready in the morning? It's so busy, so go-go-go.

I hate it. I hate me. Or the me I've become. On weekdays.

You know, I used to be a good employee too.

I was a great employee. I came early whenever they needed me to. Stayed late if anyone asked. My longest day was 6am-11:30pm, with no breaks except for lunch. Straight work. And I loved it. People depended on me, and I got stuff done.

Now? Please. Well, even if I could figure out how to get out the door sooner, I can't get there too early, because I'd have to wait until I could drop FireGirl off. And I can't stay too late because I have to pick her up.

So those days are definitely over.

My focus is split. I don't love my job anymore. I'm starting to hate it. Because of how it affects the rest of me. I hate the fact that I'm the way I am in the mornings because I'm going to that place. If I didn't have to go to that place, we wouldn't have to rush around, I wouldn't be ushering FireGirl around the house, urging her to eat her breakfast, begging her to let me dress her, fighting with her about getting in the car.

Ugh. I hate it. I who I am on weekdays. I really do.

I seriously considered texting FireMan when I got to work this morning and telling him I was putting in my two weeks notice. And meaning it.

I have no idea how we would make it financially, but...

I just feel like something's gotta give.

And it can't be my family. So...

I was a good employee, until I became a mom.

I'm a great mom, when I'm not trying to be a mediocre or better employee.

And in-between all that I'm desperately trying to be a satisfactory wife.

But... it's not working. Twenty-six months later, 26 months of trying, 26 months of failing, 26 months of stress, 26 months of failing at all three... I think we've reached a point where something has to give.

I am broken. I am tired of feeling like a failure. I am tired of being told I am failing.

You know how you have the worst things you think about yourself?

Now imagine if everyone around you told you they were true. Not just one person, but everyone. Okay, not literally everyone, but just about.

Oh, they always phrase it nicely. Okay, not always, but usually.

What if your husband told you repeatedly that you were not satisfactory to him as a wife, and he wasn't pleased with how you handled your daughter, and by the way, why can't you keep the house clean?

If your mom started putting parenting articles in your diaper bag so you'd find them once you got your daughter home?
If your dad kept telling you that you'd better "shape up" before you got fired?

If your boss & co-workers started telling you how to do your job?

And you are trying, you are really, honestly trying, working, pushing yourself to do better at all of it.

And when you realize you can't work on all the areas at once, so you focus on one, you immediately hear a chorus of dissatisfied groans around you, because focusing on improving in one area means not focusing on five others.

And so when you decide that won't work, and you decide maybe if you take baby steps in several areas, so you don't overwhelm yourself too much you get laughed at & made fun of because what are baby steps gonna do? and "I know how you are & how this will end up" and then the chorus of dissatisfaction starts anew because you're not improving quickly enough.

Heck, let's broaden things.

What if two different volunteer organizations you that your volunteer contributions weren't up to snuff?

If members of your own family told you how horrible you were, and decided not to be around you?

What if you invited over 150 people to a party... and only five showed up?

Just... whatever it is for you... think about what the worst things you think about yourself. Seriously. Take a minute. Think about what they are, what they would be.

And then, imagine if the rest of the world seemed to be reading your mind, and telling your that you were right. That all of those horrible things... really were true.

And every time - we're talking over the course of several years - every time you had the arrogance to try to convince yourself that they weren't true, to stand up tall, and press onward... well, every single time you got knocked on your butt again.
That every teeny tiny success you might have, was met with a minimum of two decent-sized failures?

I just... I need a break. I need... I need something to give. I thought giving up volunteer organizations would help. And... at least I have lowered the number of people I am disappointing, but... I'm not really doing any better at this.

And then, of course, I have those people that like to tell me how I shouldn't have given up volunteering because of... blah, blah, blah. And when I try to explain they proceed to tell me how they manage to work it in.

You know, because the fact that I can't handle it is just another sign of how badly I suck. Because everyone else can do it.

I don't have much of a social life to give up (see above note re: party).

Can't give up family. They're family.

All that I see that's left, is work.

And all I know, is that I've reached my breaking point.

After two-and-a-half years of fighting just to manage as a working mom, fighting and struggling, and fighting, and failing... I am waving the white flag yet again and saying, I can't do it. I give.

I spend too much time crying. Too much time feeling bad. I give.

I honestly believe I will be a better, and happier, wife & mother if I am not working full-time outside the home.

I will have more time for my family, more time for my home, more time for myself.

I will not be as stressed. I will not be under as much pressure. I will not be held to so many outside pressures.

Instead of 50 different people reaching for me, depending on me, relying on me, counting on me... there will be two.

I don't know how to convince FireMan this is the right decision, and I don't know how we're gonna make it work financially, but... I really think I need to do this. I think all of our lives will be better.

And Lord, Father, Abba - if this doesn't work...........................................................

My friend died yesterday

The circumstances surrounding his death are heartbreaking.

He leaves behind a wife and three young children.

I feel as if I should say more, and perhaps I will at a later date.

But right now... I just desire to be... quiet.

I only ask that you please pray for his family. They most certainly need comfort at this time.

Till next time.

*****************

"When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight."    -- Kahlil Gibran

Never Marry an Amazing Man

It comes with too many expectations that you will be amazing too.

FireMan is amazing. He really is. He is hard-working, generous, and will do anything for anybody.

I mean, c'mon... the man is a firefighter. His chosen profession is to run into burning buildings to save other people. He took a significant pay cut to put his life in danger to help others.

He's that guy.

He's incredible.

He also volunteers with the local water rescue as a rescue & recovery diver and EMT. And he's great at it. In fact, I contend that if you ever (God forbid) need someone to recover a corpse from a body of water, FireMan's your guy. He's the best at it.

Yes, it's a weird thing to be the best at, but he is. And him, again putting himself in danger, to recover a loved one so that a family can gain closure... well,  how awesome is that?

And then we started volunteering as divers for the Zoo. I stopped, because I didn't feel like I had the time, but he's continued.

And he tried out for Ski Patrol this past winter. And although he didn't make it this time around (it was kinda last minute and he did it on a whim), I have a feeling that's not the last we've heard of it.

Friends and family know FireMan as the type of guy that they can call whenever they need him. Car breaks down? Call FireMan. Sick and need help? Call FireMan. Need help with something on your house? Call FireMan.

He is reliable, dependable, great at what he does, generous, and always willing to help.

It's one of the things that attracted me to him to begin with.



Don't ever marry an amazing man.





Why? Because you're expected to be just as amazing. People who don't know me assume that I'm an EMT or firefighter. And they're surprised, and seemingly somewhat disappointed, to learn that I don't currently volunteer anywhere.

And when "they" need your husband? You're expected to just give him up, no questions asked, no complaints. Keep your mouth closed, and smile graciously, relishing in the knowledge that your husband is serving others.

Even if you had plans.

Even if you had something you wanted or needed done around the house.

Even if your daughter is asking for him.

Even if you're just lonely and missing him.

If you marry an amazing man, you're expected to be amazing too. You can't just be the normal wife, nagging because her husband worked late.

After all, he's not just working, he's helping others.

It's a lot of pressure.

And when it boils over, and you tell your husband you need him to cut back so he can be home more, you actually end up feeling bad, feeling guilty.

You feel guilty for wanting to be with your own husband.

Because it's not like he's out at the bar or the strip club. He's out helping others.

And you asking him to cut down on doing that "just" to be with you? Well, that seems... selfish.

Because as the wife of an amazing man, you're supposed to be amazing too. You're supposed to generously & supportively give up your husband, quietly live the life of the single mom all the nights that he's gone, and do what you need to do so that he can do what he does best... help others.

Even when you don't want to. Even when you're tired. Or sick.

Or lonely and just want your husband back.

Or just want someone else to help with your child that night.

Or just don't know what to say anymore when your daughter asks where daddy is this time.

Or just want your husband back.

That is your sacrifice, your generosity, your amazingness - supporting him and willingly & happily going without him so that he can help others.

When he is amazing, when he is generous, helpful, hard-working, and will do anything for anybody...

You have to be amazing too. You don't really get a choice here.

You have to be generous, and supportive of him - because he's amazing.

And to be anything less would be seen as selfish.



So, my advice to all you single ladies?

Never marry an amazing man.