Long Legged Sunflower

I looked over today to see my wild-ling of a two year old standing, just staring off and I was struck by his legs. They were suddenly so long, it happened seemingly over night, and there, in just his diaper and pajama shirt with his blonde wild hair he reminded me of a sunflower.

Tall–strong–a bit gangly and weird–yellow headed–usually a bit of a mess. Wild sunflowers are never perfect, and my Patton is definitely a bit of a mess. but you are struck by their beauty anyways. It was only a moment though, a full, whole, second , maybe even two…and then, like he knew I was looking, turned and grinned. Then he was gone, back through the house in the next second.

It is sappy but the moments of grandeur in the middle of a rainy, otherwise, dreary, Wednesday keep me sane.

My friend messaged me and said that it had been too many cold, grey days in a row. Which is the perfect description.

love. love. love

.

So, 2015, what’s up?

I haven’t written in so long.
Well, I have written, just not on here.
So much has happened.
Long story short, I turned 25 years old in August with so much hope and excitement.
My oldest started kindergarten that same month. (!!)
Then my husband lost his job in September right as I started back at school so everything fell apart. I ended up having to withdraw from classes to work full time until he could get hired. But As of now he has worked at his current employer since the beginning of November, so like 2.5 months.
My chronic pain and fibromyalgia went out of control (probably because of stress and weather) and I have had hardly any quality of life and have to come to terms with what I will be ability to do career wise.
I started school back last week, my 5 year old Is kicking ass in kindergarten, and my two year old is growing like a weed and is as wild as ever.
I had a pretty physically (and emotionally) painful miscarriage in November.
I have gained the 15lbs back that I lost in the beginning of 2014 from just eating my feelings. (They taste so good drenched in cheese and ranch! hahah 🙂 )
I had to cut ties with an emotionally draining “best friend” recently, and I have been so much happier becaeuse of it, which feels weird.

So yeah. A big, crappy ridiculous first half of being 25. So many other things happened as well; Illness, daily struggles, financially, emotionally, cars being towed, dreams reevaluated, family tragedies….

It has just been hard. I think that’s fair. I don’t think that’s ungrateful. It is the truth.

There have been some deep depressive holes but today I am okay. I have anxiety about school and life and what comes next. I am grieving for the path I lost when my body turned against me with my fibromyalgia and chronic pain issues. I am mourning the fact that I want more babies and I can’t carry them because of my fibromyalgia and my mind and adopting is so far off and may never come.

I think that year 24 was a year that I owned and really excelled in and then 25 came around and I was so sure it would be the same and I got knocked on my ass. I am slowly getting up and brushing myself off. It is taking time.

I am so incredibly thankful for what I didn’t lose or for what didn’t get mangled on the way through.

Anyways here I am, slightly older, I am not sure that I am wiser and I am not even sure I am any stronger, but perhaps if anything, I could Say I Am braver.

So. To being brave in 2015.

Love.love.love.

Sleep

It’s not late,
it’s not early.
I want to stay up.
Awake.
but my body is fighting that mightily. My body gave up on me ages ago and so tonight is no surprise. There’s never enough sleep to rest a body racked with chronic pain. My mind though, my mind….I wish I could just stay awake. I want more hours to myself after the kids have gone to bed. I want to read or paint or roll around in bed with my sexy husband….but my eyes are so heavy and my body so sore. I’m angry. I have ideas I need to get out but I can’t fight it much longer. I turn on some music, my last ditch attempt to feel or do something meaningful before sleep takes me.

Sleep, my closest most loved friend and much hated enemy. A caretaker that plays the bad guy and calls me in before I’m ready.

Were you loved enough?

“Were you loved enough?”
“What’s enough?”
-The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood

Yesterday, I came home from work and sat in the floor in tears. I was broken. I was in pain, my fibromyalgia is flaring up, I was exhausted, I was stressed because it seems no matter how much I work I don’t make enough lately. So I sit a broken, defeated lady and I was met by the horse-dog Sadie lady. She almost knocked me over as she clumsily tried to sit in my lap and lick my face off. Boston our smaller dog was right beside her wiggling and licking my hands, my face, anything he could get to in the commotion. I finally got them to lay down and Doom kitty our black cat comes out and rubs up against the dogs purring and then rubs up all over me, purring and loving on me too. My tiny general jumped on me with a big hug, and my oldest reminded me that even though he was too busy to cuddle right now his “self-conscious” was with me. He was in my heart and I was in his heart. It was then, as I was sitting on the floor laughing through my tears, surrounded by small mammals that, I realized, that this is what being loved enough feels like.

This is enough.

One more

Sometimes it’s just a smile, a song, a beautiful flower. Sometimes the wind blows in just the right softness and temperature. You know the wind I’m talking about. The soft, warm, breeze that feels like a soft brush against your skin. The smallest of things can keep us alive from one second to the next…inspire us to take just one more breathe. Just one more breathe.

Easter

Holidays can get tricky because I am more in the Buddhist boat and my husband is catholic and the rest of my family is Protestant. I usually smile along and make the most of it and celebrate and bring out the true, loving, kindness behind each Christian holiday. I don’t know what I believe about him rising from the dead, but I believe he was a great man, and I see nothing wrong in celebrating him and teaching unconditional love to my children. I did have to work this morning but I had got each of the boys their own sketchbooks and cases for markers, some bubbles, and stickers. They LOVED it. They genuinely loved getting their own sketchbooks so they don’t have to paint and draw in mine anymore. I guess while I was at work my mom and husband did the egg hunt with the boys which I was disappointed about but it’s okay. We still got to do the Mexican party eggs!! So here are some pictures from that madness:

The first picture is the aftermath and the boys painting some things my mom had brought them, the second is a picture of me! Lol and the rest are self explanatory cuteness. I love the last one. Patton looking down smiling, Anders grinning. Pure joy.

Anders has already begged for more eggs for his birthday in a few weeks! They were so fun!

Love. Love. Love.

My wish

Me and my husband got to go on a date yesterday! We went to the art district in Charlotte and then chipotle for lunch. We went to our favorite shop, it’s full of Latin American items, hand made day of the dead decorations, jewelry, stuffed animals handmade in Peru out of alpaca fur, etc. It is SO cool. But it also has a lot of religious items from all religions. It has Buddhas, crosses, Hindu gods, books about Judaism, books about all the religions, so many beautiful handcrafted items. It is a colorful, loving, spiritual place. Yesterday, we bought some sage, some more Buddhist prayer flags, some Mexican eggs that have confetti in them (I can’t remember the real name) , and a catholic talisman. But I got this really cool box and Joseph carrying baby Jesus there awhile back:

Anyways, they had a crystal on a chain that you hold up, clear your mind and ask it a yes or no question. If it begins to spin it means no, and if it stays still it means yes. When we got to the car my husband told me that he had tried it out. He said I could rest assured because we weren’t going to get a divorce and he was going to get a good job in the next few years. I laughed, “is that really what you asked it?” I said. He frowned, a little embarrassed, and answered, “well, what existential questions would you have asked it?” I replied without a second thought. “If I was going to be okay.”
“What?”
“I would ask if I was going to be okay. It is what I have always wished for, I have even asked a magic 8 ball.”
“Really?”
” I mean I’m sure when I was younger I had lighter child like wishes, I just don’t remember them, but for the last ten-plus years that is what I wanted. It’s what I’ve wished for on every coin, every birthday candle, eyelash and dandelion. Just to be okay.”
He nodded knowingly and reached over and held my hand as we drove.
It was in this moment that I realized the profundity of such a simple and incredibly complex wish. A wish, a hope, perhaps too heavy for birthday candles and dandelion seeds to carry.

What I need

I know that I don’t NEED more stuff to fill my walls and shelves.

I know I don’t NEED more books than I could or ever will read.

I don’t need to try to fill my void with shopping for books, for trinkets, for little colorful things that make me feel good for awhile.

I suppose I need to rest, not to sleep, but to rest.

I need to close my eyes and listen to my boys laughter when I’m in my deep, dark, ocean of sadness and hold on tight like it is my lifesaver.

Because IT IS.

I need to let the people that love me, love me. Let them hold me, let them care for me the best they can.

I need to let go of what I can’t change in this moment.

I think I need to close my eyes more, not just when I am sleeping.

I said to my husband

“I have a wonderful life, I have beautiful boys, I have ridiculous dogs and a cat that love me. I have so much of what so many people want. And I still can’t find the will to live. It is still hard to breathe.”

“But you do. you are still here.”

He is right. I am still here. One moment at a time.

Love. Love. Love.

Looking for Alaska

{{{I wrote this in February but for some reason did not post it! Better late than never}}}

I recently read The Fault In Our Stars by JohnGreen and I loved it. I entered it with trepidation because I can be a book snob and usually shy away from new books everyone loves. I read it because I love John Green and I really just needed to dive in. Any who, I loved it. I do think it would have felt more relevant to me if I had read it before I had kids but I still loved it. SO I wanted to read more of John Green’s work and I chose Looking For Alaska. I haven’t thrown a book across the room in a long time, but 170 pages in tonight that is exactly what happened…..I threw the book across the room and burst into tears. If you have read the book you know why I did this. If you haven’t I am about to spoil everything so this is your warning.

Ready?

She dies. Alaska fucking dies. Are you kidding me? Nope, not kidding you. It’s heart wrenching and mostly unexpected. I think it hit me like a ton of bricks because she dies in the same way and similar circumstances my best friend died years ago. 2007. After I put myself back together I picked up the book and continued to read. As I read, my heart ached so much for my Alaska, my Nicholas that is gone, for his mother, for his brothers, for book Alaska, for her friends and I found myself wishing so much I could go back and I could give myself this book then. I wish I could look 17 year old me in the eyes and say “you live through this, it stops hurting all the time, you will learn to breathe again. Read this book and you won’t feel so alone. ”

I talked to him just hours before he died, I told him not to go out, he laughed and told me he would be just fine. I worried too much he said.

It is strange how life works. The night he got into his accident I was talking to him on the phone in Asheville in my friend’s dorm just hours after I had met my now husband (Viktor) for the first time. I didn’t see Viktor again until I moved to Asheville a broken mess, a year later. It has been 13 years since I met my dear friend Nick at a birthday party, 7 years since I met Viktor for the first time and the awful thing happened, 6 years since I moved to Asheville, 5 years since the birth of our first son, 3 years since my mother-in-law died and 2 years since the birth of my second son. Life is treacherous and amazing and awful and everything…and somehow it keeps going on.

Love. Love. Love.

Painting, where are you?

That’s what my almost 2 year old (!!!) says when he wants to paint. He walks around the house with his hands to his mouth saying “paintingggg, ‘air are youuuuu????” It is super cute. He loves to paint and color and create. He is constantly wanting to paint. This morning we painted some bird houses, and I tried to put the painting apron on him but he would ONLY wear it as a cape.

My little superhero painting.

I got an epidural yesterday for my spinal swelling, bulging disc, pars defect problems. I’ve been really sore so we’ve done lots of coloring to minimize the jumping. Haha In other medical news we just upped my antidepressant and it seems to have made me even more anxiety ridden. Hopefully it will even out. Anxiety is paralyzing.

Also, I need to find a therapist in my area. I dread having to find someone I like,breaking them in, etc. it’s such a long process. I have only ever had one therapist I really felt comfortable and connected with, so wish me luck!

Love. Love. Love.