Maybe it's time to move on

Lately, I've been re-watching one of my favorite series on Netflix. I was struck by a particular line, and it's odd how it hit me, because although it was about pain and sadness, the context in which it was spoken wasn't my particular brand of sorrow.

My life has been one of great pain and sorrow. I've been through a lot and hurt a LOT. I wasn't even thinking about my wounds at the moment that this was spoken, but somehow it struck me to the core:

 

"Maybe it's time to move on."

 

 

WOW. How profound. And yet, so simple. "Maybe it's time to move on."

 

So I pondered on that for several minutes. And then the Princess woke up from her nap.

 

I continued on with my morning, watching as I nursed and played with her. A few episodes later, this character's pain deepened. I can relate to that. While my wounds are deep, they are old. Nearly as old as I am. However, I feel like they've never fully healed because the person who inflicted them continues to pick at the raw edges regularly. So this character's brother says to him, in the midst of his pain and darkness, "the darkness doesn't have any answers."

 

Our society has this romantic notion that all the pain and suffering and wallowing is actually really beautiful and healing, that it's poetic and helpful. But it's not. It's just garbage and pain and suffering. What's poetic and helpful is LIFE. LIVING the life we have before us, appreciating the present, the beauty, and love NOW is what is healing.

 

So I'm going to let it all go and MOVE ON. I'm sure that from time to time I'll still be able to feel those old wounds, and that their causation will still pick at them but I will try to remember the life I have before me and beauty of my two wonderful little monsters, and love that my husband unconditional bestows upon me. He reminds me that we are two halves of a whole and that we make up for each others' short comings. He, and our children, is where my future lies.

 

That's not to say that things won't be difficult sometimes but the world doesn't have to revolve around pain. The past is part of who we are but as one of my favorite songs says when things get rough we'll just "take this sinking boat and point it home, we've still got time..."

 

Let's move on. 

The one where I tell how awesome I am

Sometimes there are people placed in your life that you're unable to remove for various reasons. Even when you want to. So you just deal with it, right? Well most of the time, while slightly unpleasant, it's typically no biggie.

Sometimes said people make inferences and judgements about who they perceive you to be. Usually these types of assumptions are wrong. Very, very wrong.

I'm kind of a crazy girl, maybe even a bit schizo when it comes to my interests, hobbies, and job history. I get that it can be hard to keep up with me sometimes. But I ask for the benefit of the doubt.
I'm a stay at home/work at home momma of two crazies and I often feel like I'm loosing my mind but I'm bright and talented and just hope that I'll have the opportunity to utilize those talents in the service of others.

Lately, aforementioned people have treated me as though I have no talents of worth because I'm "young" and a hairdresser. And so I've continually been underutilized of late and treated as though I don't bring very much to the table.

Well, let me tell you why I am awesome:

Did you know that I was a medical secretary for more than 3 years?? I'm the daughter of a nurse. I took biology, chemistry, anatomy and physiology, medical terminology, and a few other things. I have a basic understanding of medical billing, diagnoses, and how the body works. When people use big medical words, I know what they mean and understand the context.

Did you know that I was an English major for a while? Yup, I'm fantastic at English. I'm wonderful at editing, researching, grammar, and persuasion. When you need help outlining, mapping, and/or editing your paper, I'm your girl. I even know how to properly use a semicolon! Unheard of, I know. I'm also kind of amazing at research.

I'm really great at math. Algebra, Trig, Geometry? Piece. of. CAKE. Don't like it; really good at it.

Did you know that I'm a licensed cosmetologist? This means that I can do more than hair. I also give a really rad facial. And, I can wax. Well. And fast.
On a good day, with the right products, I could wax your body hair line to toes in just about 2 hours. I'm also a really great makeup artist. I am excellent at highlighting a woman's best features.

I throw a really great party. For serious.

Did you know that I'm really passionate about health, nutrition, breastfeeding, and babies?
I'm a birth doula and lactation educator. I'm well versed and studied in the natural process of pregnancy, labor, delivery, and feeding babies the way God intended our bodies to do it. I believe in clean living, empowering our bodies to function and heal properly. I have a better understanding of natural childbirth than most medical doctors and nurses in our allopathic society has ever observed. I have a MUCH better understanding of breastmilk and breastfeeding that any doctor was taught in their schooling. I am continually updating and increasing my knowledge of nutrition, natural remedies and cures, and all things pregnancy, birth, and breastfeeding related because I'm hungry to continue in helping myself, my family, and those I come in contact with.

I'm a good speaker and teacher. I tend to over prepare, but I can typically give my message without needing too many of my notes and give information in a way that's easily understood. My mom is seriously one of the best presenters and speakers I know and I've tried hard to emulate her.
....I've also been to more than a few toastmasters meetings. HAHA!

Navigating! I'm great with a map.


So yea, I'm awesome.

You know what I suck at?? Lots of things. I'm a bit shy, I get nervous in new situations, and I like my comfort zone. I hate to be alone, like a LOT. I'm easily distracted. I talk endlessly, seriously could chat your ear off.
I like routine. And plans, please just stick to the plan. I'm opinionated. And obsessive. And easily distracted.
And let's be honest, this list could go on and on and on.

So, what was my point? .....oh right! I've been vastly underestimated and underutilized lately. It kind of sucks to have people's preconceived notions and perceptions of you determine what they believe your skill set is regardless of what you state. Combine this with a little bit of being overlooked and just a little bit of being villianized of late and I'm feeling a bit useless. This makes me cranky. Seriously. Just ask Husband.

Feeling useless is no fun. So I'm just asking you to give me a chance and let me show you what I can do. Let me show you my awesomeness. You'll be impressed. I promise.

cute Princess dress

Made By Me Monday

 

 

Using this lovely blog post and tutorial by Shwin and Shwin, as my PIN-spiration, I made this super cute dress for Princess.

I kept it sleeveless even though we're going into winter because I want her to be able to wear it spring and summer also.
I also cheated and made the skirt long and left about 2 inches of material on either side of the bodice to be able to let it out a bit as she grows.
Shout out to my rockin' Mom (aka: Mamacita) for teaching me how to hide that extra bodice fabric.

Isn't she just the CUTEST girl??

 

Sometimes it's ok to be selfish

This past weekend, I did something selfish. And I've decided sometimes it's okay to be selfish. Not just because I had Husband's blessing to do what I did, but because sometimes we're so self-LESS that we cease to care for ourselves properly. How can a momma care for her family when she's unwell? She can't.

Post partum depression is a beast. It's something I've battled before, but each baby bares a new and different challenge. For a while now, I'd been feeling like I was treading water but the last several weeks it's felt more like drowning. Gasping for air and beginning to sink under.

When people talk about drowning, real drowning not movie or television drowning, it's actually an incredibly quiet event. And it can happen right in front of a crowd of people without anyone taking real notice. There's no dramatic splashing or yelling for help, just the quiet gulps that fill a victim's lung with water as they sink below the surface practically paralyzed by fear and lack of oxygen.

For more than a month now, I've been struggling to keep my head above the water, feeling like I'm drowning, quietly gulping water and sinking below the surface. And virtually no one seemed to notice. I've even wished for an accident, to get hurt and need a prolonged hospital stay so that I could just rest and be undisturbed by dogs, chickens, poopy diapers, dirty faces, snot noses, or any of the other myriad of things that face moms of small people each day. "To just rest and be medicated would feel pretty good," I thought. And then there were times that I considered maybe just slipping under the surface quietly with no notice wouldn't necessarily be such a bad thing.

Sure I've got friends and family that would be sad and miss the girl I used to be. The cute, fun, sassy one who drew people in like a magnet. But, let's be honest: I haven't been that girl in a long time and lately I haven't been all that likable of a person. Any perceived closeness has all felt really superficial this year. And for some strange reason, I've kind of felt ok with it. I've been numb to the missing personal relationships and maybe it has mostly been how I've masked the raw and burning feelings, like the nerves exposed from gashing off a few layers of skin.

You're probably wondering where the selfish part is. Well here it is.

I left.

I packed a bag and took off for the weekend leaving my husband and children at home. I barely called or texted, only wanting not to worry the man any further but not actually wanting too many details about what was going on at home.

I told Husband and myself that it was just for the weekend, a turn around trip really. But a small portion of me was scared that I wouldn't want to come back.

I made big plans to park my tush in the sand with my toes in the water and not leave until I'd removed this lost, drifting, drowning feeling off my shoulders. Instead, I spent Friday with an old friend catching up, chatting, and just relaxing. And it felt good.

Saturday, I got up early and ran. Purposely leaving my headphones behind and pushing my speed so I'd have to focus only on my breathing and footsteps, running alone along the shoreline, those nerve endings felt like they were being picked at not healed. But isn't that often the first step, cutting away all the dead and broken skin?

Then I showered and got dressed. I drove out to Point Loma and hiked down to the tide pools.

And I sat watching the tide come in.

For a long time.

I realized I never really "lost" myself. I just sort of lost my way for a while but I was always there. However, the last few months I've been allowing my weaknesses to drive me. I'm impatient (though aren't we all), self doubting, and a perfectionist. And in my desire to not repeat the mistakes of my parents, I've been destroying myself and any confidence I had learned to this point in my life.

While I sat along the cliff edge, I saw this little seagull.

 

I know he's hard to see, but he's there sitting out on that rock.

 



I watched this little seagull for a long time.

Because the tide was coming in, the water on this rock was rising a teensy bit with each wave. He didn't seem to mind if he got sprayed a little with the water or if his toes got wet. He stood his ground and looked out toward the coastline as if planning his next move.

Eventually, the waves got a bit higher and he didn't want his bum to get wet so he began to hop as each wave washed over the rock. He continued this hop and wait for another while. Then the water became too deep. But he wasn't really ready to move on yet so he flew to the next highest rock and sat for another while repeating this process over until he was ready to fly away for good.

Despite the rising tide, he was not persuaded to change his plan or alter his course until he was really ready to do so.

... I know what your thinking: Wow, she really gave this silly bird a lot more thought than necessary. But hey, I was sitting out here on this cliff edge for the purpose of soul searching people. Sometimes ya just make do with what's available. Haha

Anyways, I figured I needed to learn something from this little seagull. It's okay when things get messy as long as we keep our perspective.

Striving for perfection can occasionally be a good thing, but in general it falls into the weakness category. It allows us to set unrealistic expectations for others and especially ourselves.

I've lost sight of the important things.
I feel like I've forgotten the extend of God's love for me, that imperfect as I am, I'm special and important just as I am.
Eternal perspective. What does that mean? "This too shall PASS."
Some where in the last couple of years, between hyperemisis, broken shoulder, new baby, etc, I stopped looking forward and making plans and goals. And while I 100% believe that life is what happens while we're busy making plans, I know that plans and goals are important. We should not just be wondering aimlessly through this life.

I've come to a new place through this weekend away that is ultimately a good thing for my family. I'm still a work in progress, still treading water but I can breathe again. It's been a while since I felt that way.

Relationships are important. Especially my marriage. With my husband's hand in mine I can overcome anything. And harsh as it may seem, right now, his is the only opinion I truly value. For too long I've been focusing on outside perceptions and expectations and I've realized that those things matter not.

I don't have to be a perfect mom, I just have to be better than I was yesterday.

And it's ok if I'm not a very good friend today because tomorrow I'll be a little bit more well than I am today which means I'll be able to be a better person the day after that.

Maybe my weekend of selfishness was a bit less selfish than I thought.

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good enough

When is "good enough" enough?

Daily we're inundated with perfect ideas of how each of us should be:
how to be the perfect housewife, the perfect lover, the perfect mother, the perfect outfit, haircut, DIY do-er, baker, cook, nail technician, up-cycler, seamstress.

There is even a list of perfect things we should have:
shoes, shade of lipstick, car, dog, diaper bag, car seat, stroller, coffee.

Our society if full of "perfectionists," myself included.

And, if you're anything like me, you only see how you're failing miserably those perfect standards. Every day I feel like I'm drowning, barely treading water, in an effort to be perfect. The perfect wife, the perfect mom, perfect friend, perfect hair and skin, even the perfect workout.

Let's get one thing clear: I am momma to a 2-yr-old (which in itself equals tantrum throwing, busy bodied, mess-making, loud and sometimes angry, adorable monster) and a very high needs, high maintenance almost one year old.
So what does this mean? It means for every mess picked up, one twice its size appears in its place without delay. All day long small people are hanging on me and climbing me for sport. They follow me around all day long and I'm never ever alone. All my food is shared and most days, my toddler TD logs more iPhone time than I do.
My house is endlessly and always a disaster, not dirty, just cluttered and toy piled. My kids often have dirty hands and faces. I'm stressed and frazzled and probably won't get a shower until my kids are in bed. Unless, of course, I got a run and shower in before Husband left for work at 6:15 this morning... which is highly unlikely.

Some days are okay, but most this constant struggle for perfection leaves me utterly exhausted emotionally and physically, feeling like I've been treading water, from sun up to sun down, just trying to find a little ray of sunshine. I know something good happens every day but most days, after the kids have gone to bed and Husband asks me about my day, I can't seem to remember them.

Sadly, when you can't ever seem to remember the good times and giggles, it's difficult to like yourself. When you constantly feel as though you're falling short at every measure.

As mothers, I think this is something we all struggle with at some point or another, especially in our early days. But what do we do about it? How do we find the balance between "good enough" and "perfection?"

I hope some of you know, because I still haven't figured it out.

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Running

Running used to be my solace. I was good at running. And, more importantly, I LOVED it. We were besties.

Fast forward a few years, a couple of kids, an injury or too, and I still love running. Only now, running doesn't love me so much anymore. Now, running is hard.

No matter how awful things seemed, when the world was crashing down around me, I could run. For miles and miles.

Now I have a new challenge: when my tank is on empty emotionally, running hurts. And oddly, running is now often tear inducing. But not just sprinkles, SOBS. It's rather difficult to run very far or very fast when you've been sobbing and as I'm currently training for my first half marathon, this is kind of a problem.

I still feel some relief when I'm finished but it seems to take a lot more energy to rid myself of the emotional baggage than it used to and I am rarely left feeling refreshed.

Maybe the problem is that these trials, although much different, feel similar in weight to those I was dealing with 8 and 9 years ago. The weight on my chest that makes it hard to take a deep breath is back. I think sometimes in life we sort of loose our footing. Our faith isn't lost, we know its there even if it's momentarily dimmed, its just that for whatever reason the ground feels a little shaky and unstable for a little while and the sky seems to be fading behind the shadows cast by our obstacles. We can't quite feel the full power of our faith within ourselves.

So, for a little while we lean on the faith of someone close to use. It's amazing the strength and support we can draw from the faith of another. What a tender mercy to have someone placed in our path to hold our hand and say "it's ok, we can run slow for a while." And, in some crucial moments, "Let's walk. As long as we get our miles in, its ok if it takes a while. The speed and strength will come as long as we keep putting one foot in front of the other"

I guess it's ok if I go slow for awhile and I'm sure soon enough I won't cry so much. I will probably never get back to where I used to be but that's ok because different can be good and, really, we should probably just be moving forward anyway. I can be better than I used to be.



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Change is in the wind....

I'm going to start out with honesty. Because that's what I do here: raw, unedited, naked truth.

So I took a little break recently, from blogging, crafting, socializing, from basically every thing. Why? Because I suffer from post partum depression (PPD). Its devestating, debilitating, and there is nothing cute or romantic about it. The hardest part? We've been here before. I've walked these steps before. PPD strips you down to the bare bones of your exsistence; any symbolance of good mental health or normalcy you had goes completely away and all that's left is BROKEN. For a while, I thought I was ok; I thought I had everything under control. As it turns out, I was wrong.

So now, Zoloft and I are becoming good friends. I see a post partum specialist. And that's a major difference this time around, its easier to heal when working with someone who actually knows what they're doing. She tells me its ok, I did not cause this, there is nothing I could have done to prevent it, and most importantly, I will survive this.  This coming week, I plan to start attending a post partum support group. I also get to have some fancy-smancy blood work done because I may have a sleepy adrenal gland which can worsen any PPD symptoms.

Every day is hard. But I'm trying. That's a lot to ask sometimes.

**Disclaimer: Anonymous comments will not be published. I'd love to hear from YOU not "Anonymous" :)