Taking Back the Holidays: An Update

A few months ago I proclaimed that I was "Reclaiming the Holidays". This was our fourth Thanksgiving and Christmas without Sue, and I had a plan to use the power of positive thinking to keep me from wishing the season away. I had plans to use every tool I had to enjoy myself rather than hide in bathrooms, crying my eyes out.

I think I did a pretty good job. I worked hard to keep my attitude in check. I maintained an internal dialogue about how everything I was experiencing should be looked at as a gift. My first gift came in the form of Sue's oldest, home from college for a visit. We went running together, had a movie and lunch date, and had many good conversations. It's hard for me to put into words how thankful I am for my relationship with him. In fact, my relationship with all four of her kids has done more to heal the gaping hole in my heart than anything else. 

We had a big "All Cousins Sleepover" to celebrate Sue's youngest daughter's 11th birthday, a tradition that started before we lost Sue. It was wild, crazy, loud, and oh.my.gosh do nine kids eat a lot! Her other daughter (now 13) also has a close-to-Christmas birthday, so we celebrated that in a quieter, girls-only sleepover here at our house.

Much like when Sue was alive, there was a lot of kid-swapping over Christmas break. The cousins spent enough time with each other to get sick of each other and start acting like siblings. It amuses me when that happens. I hope as they grow up and start leaving home, they maintain that closeness.

In the midst of family gatherings and activities, I became an official Red Cross volunteer and worked at my first two day-long blood drives. One was at the local fire station, and the other at the high school. At the blood drives I was surprised and happy to discover another gift: I can now share Sue's story without crying. I was able to tell her story to many donors. Several people shared with me that they never really knew anyone who benefitted from blood donations, so Sue's story inspired them to keep their regular appointments. Two first-time donors hugged me and said that they are now donors for life after hearing her story. I am so inspired to continue my work with the Red Cross, and tell everyone far and wide the importance of blood donation!

There was so much good over the holiday season, but of course there is sadness. It is a quieter kind of sadness now. No, I didn't hide in a bathroom to have a breakdown (a huge victory! I did have some weepy moments but never in a bathroom!), but there were empty chairs at our holiday tables. No amount of positive thinking can change that. There are four kids who opened their presents on Christmas morning with no mom to watch their smiles. There was no post-holiday phone call from Sue to me, in which we discussed how THIS Christmas, surely was the best one yet!

No, what we are left with here is a different kind of Christmas. It was, like I'm finding with all big events now, a heart-twisting mash-up of joy and sorrow. I know that for the rest of my life this will be the case: those chairs will be empty. For the rest of my life my heart and mind will flutter between the precious memories of the past, the "what could have been" images of how life might be if we hadn't lost Sue, and the bright, beautiful here and now. I have so much hope for the future.

I hope, dear reader, that you found hope and joy this holiday season, no matter what trials you are facing. And if you spent time crying in a bathroom, know that I'm proud that you came back out and kept trying to find the good. There really is so much good.

The Burden

I brought her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an iced tea. I set the plate on her lap, along with a napkin, and moved the table next to her so that she could reach the drink. She was in her bed. She had not been able to go up or down the stairs in over two months. She told me, "I'm a burden. I'm a burden on my husband, my kids, my family--everyone. I'm not saying this to be dramatic or depressing, it's just a fact that I've been thinking about lately."

I don't remember what I said in response. I know I tried to tell her she wasn't a burden at all, that it was my pleasure to help her any way I could. I know she argued back. I know it made me sad. I want to go back and have a re-do of that conversation. I want to tell her what I know now, with the perspective of time and much mulling over. 

What I know now is this: there was a huge burden, but it wasn't her. The burden was her illness.

The burden was what she carried. And it was so heavy that we all worked as hard as we could to hold on to parts of it for her. The burden was the wicked illness that attacked her body, making her nauseous and unable to eat. The burden made her unable to stand and walk. It made her feel unbearable pain. It was enormous.

When she died, the burden broke up into pieces, and each of her loved ones now holds a chunk.

Depending on the day, my chunk of the burden feels either easy and light, or like I'm carrying a 500 pound boulder on my back.

No, sweet sister, you were never a burden. You held your burden as long as you could, to keep it from falling on the rest of us. Now it is broken into smaller, more manageable chunks, but they are sometimes still very hard to hold.

You were strong, you tried so hard for so long, now we can take over and you can rest.

I love you.

I Am Reclaiming the Holidays

I haven't really enjoyed Thanksgiving or Christmas since 2009.

Yes, despite everything I have to be thankful for, despite having four wonderful kids with whom I can share the magic of Christmas, I've been just barely making it through the holidays, let alone enjoying them.

In 2010, it was the first Thanksgiving and Christmas without my dad. It was hard, because his birthday is right around Thanksgiving, and he loved the holidays more than anyone I know. We had lost him only two months prior. It all felt forced and difficult.

In 2011, we were a little more used to not having Dad, but it was still hard. I didn't look forward to it, in fact, I dreaded the holidays.

In 2012 Sue was very sick around the holidays. I remember getting calls from her in which we discussed what we might do if she was in the hospital on Christmas. She was miserable. We faked it through those holidays, despite the fact that she wasn't in the hospital after all.

In 2013 we had lost Sue. My nieces and nephews were trying to see what life was like on the holidays without a mother. I was deep, deep in grief myself. I don't remember much about those holidays except escaping to cry in the bathroom a few times.

In 2014 we had made it through a whole year, plus, without Sue, but I wasn't feeling much better where the holidays were concerned. I remember waking up on Thanksgiving and crying, just wishing I didn't have to fake it through another holiday. I did end up enjoying myself at Thanksgiving and Christmas, it was just took so much effort to be happy.

In 2015 it was another year of merely "making it through". Again, things felt a bit lighter, but still not joyful.

Now it is 2016 and I am tired of dreading the holidays. I'm tired of crying in bathrooms, wishing happy days away, and being grumpy every time I hear a Christmas song. I know how disappointed my dad and Sue would be if they knew the extent of my holiday crabbiness. 2016 is the year that this will stop.

I will enjoy the holidays this year! I will listen to the Christmas songs and sing along at the top of my lungs! I will bake cookies and bask in the glow of Christmas tree lights!

The thing is, friends, we don't know how many Thanksgivings we will get. We don't know how many magical Christmas mornings we will be allowed to experience in our lifetimes. We need to squeeze out every bit of joy we can find, wherever we can find it. I used to be a person who loved the holidays. I want to be that person again.

When my kids wake up especially grumpy, positive that they will have a horrible day, I always tell them the same thing: It is up to YOU to DECIDE what kind of day you will have. You can CHOOSE to be grumpy, or you can CHOOSE to have a great day.

It is time for me to make the choice to feel joy, thankfulness, and contentment in the coming holiday season. I'm starting today!

Another Birthday and Blood Drive in the Books

It was horrible, I thought, that I couldn't schedule the blood drive in memory of my sister on my actual birthday. In fact, I cried about it a lot. I talked with the lady who schedules the blood drives and explained why it was so very important to me to have it on my actual birthday, the third anniversary of the day Sue died, but it didn't work out.

I hate when things don't go according to my plan.

I began planning the blood drive, while also completely avoiding thinking about my birthday. When well meaning friends would offer up a suggestion of how I could spend my birthday I would either 1. Cry, or 2. Change the subject. It took me weeks to stop obsessing over it. Once my birthday was about two days away, I finally came up with a plan.

My husband, Frank, took the day off from work to spend with me. I knew that I wanted to go for a walk and out to breakfast. When the day came, I decided I didn't want to go for a walk, I just wanted to go out for breakfast. And so began me just sort of taking the day minute by minute. We came home and I decided to spend a few hours watching trashy TV on the couch. We went to the Halloween parade at our little boys' school. I baked cookies for the blood drive. I took a breath, then another, then another, until finally the day was over.

I was so relieved when the day was over.

It's so hard not to relive the day she died over and over as my birthday progresses. It's hard not to think, "At this point of that day, we were driving to the funeral home to make the arrangements." or "At this time, we were telling the kids their mom was gone."

It was the worst day of my life. And I don't know how to handle it yet. So I just go through the motions and white-knuckle it until my birthday is over. Honestly, I kind of hate having a birthday now.

But! The next day was the blood drive. I was busy all day with preparations, then running the drive, then cleaning up. I got to see so many wonderful and kind people. So many people care enough to either come to donate, or come to visit during the drive. I feel so purposeful during the blood drive. I feel like maybe some good has come out of Sue's death.

We collected 35 pints of blood, saving up to 105 lives (and as I know from Sue's situation, we could also be prolonging the life of many people's sisters--this is my favorite thought as I watch the blood bags fill up). We had 4 first-time donors, and we collected $225 for a donation to the Red Cross in Sue's name (raised by a silent auction of my mom's quilts).

I made it. I lived through another birthday/anniversary of Sue's death. I ran another successful blood drive in her memory.

This is starting to feel like something I can conquer, year after year.

Sue, meeting my youngest for the first time, 2009

That One Summer

We would lie on the dock, beach towels protecting our backs from the cracking, peeling paint and splintered wood. She would bring out her tape player so we could sing along to our "jams". We would talk and talk, about our family, our hopes, and our secrets, or sometimes about nothing and nonsense. 

We spoke our own inner language, which consisted of so many inside jokes that at times an eavesdropper would be left wondering how any of our words fit together to make sense. 

We were always laughing. It was always just so FUNNY, those shared memories that could be brought forth with a single word, or sometimes even just a gesture.

We would have cold Diet Pepsi, one for her and one for me, sitting between us. An opened bag of Cheetos would lie there, too, haphazardly spilling a Cheeto or two onto the dock. 

We would watch the boys on jet skis or boats and wonder out loud if there might be a cute older brother/younger brother set among them. They were too far away to judge their cuteness, though.

The sun would bleach our hair and tan our skin. When it got too hot, we would hop off the end of the dock, landing in the cool water, our feet touching sand with little patches of tickling seaweed. We would dunk under, wet our hair, flip or twist it just so, and stand back up to reveal fancy supermodel hair, or The George Washington, or a giant handheld Mohawk. 

As the sun would dip just slightly below the trees, we would know that Dad would be back at the house, making us some dinner. We would jump in and back out one last time, gather our empty bottles, Cheetos, and radio, damp towels wound around our bodies, and walk home.

Choices

It was a rough drive to the hospital. Every bump in the road caused her to cringe or yell out. She told me to take my foot off both the gas pedal AND the brake to make the jostling just a little easier on her.

"I don't know why it helps," she told me, "It just does."

It was terrifying, knowing that how I navigated each dip or rough spot on the road directly affected her pain level. My arms ached from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

I sat in the waiting room with a book. We were there to see if they could get her some relief by draining some of the fluid from her abdomen. There was a lot of it, it caused her immense pain, and it was one of many parts of her body that was slowly, horrifyingly, getting worse.

The lady at the desk called me over. 

"They are ready for you to go see her. Room 6-B."

She was joking with a nurse when I walked in. When she told me that they didn't do the procedure, they couldn't do the procedure, because what everyone thought was fluid was actually her own organs, painfully enlarged, I needed to remind myself to breathe. 

We had reached a point where the doctors and nurses at the hospital couldn't help her. She was too sick.

I was shaking. I asked her, in as calm and normal of a voice as I could produce, "What do you want to do now?"

She took a deep breath, smiled, and said, "Let's grab some lunch!" 

I navigated her and her wheelchair through a sea of hospital workers. We needed to see all possible lunch options at the hospital cafeteria before we could make our selections. I rolled her past Saran wrapped sandwiches on paper plates, "No," she said.

I pointed out the pizza station, where the sad, droopy slivers sat waiting under heat lamps to be chosen. "No way, not pizza." She replied.

I steered her around the soup and salad bar, naming off the items that she couldn't see from her chair. 

"Let's see, there are black olives, chickpeas, some kind of cheese, maybe cheddar?" I reported.

"Chickpeas? Cheddar? Olives? Let's DO THIS!" She smiled.

We spent a considerable amount of time building her the perfect salad, with the perfect soup to go with it. We were a clumsy pair, her with trying to reach and assemble her salad from the chair, me with trying not to run over hospital workers with my less-than-stellar wheelchair steering skills. We bumped (and apologized), we dropped toppings, we laughed too loudly, we took too long making our choices. But when we were done, we had made it just how she wanted.

We got settled into a table and took a breath. 

"You have no idea how good it feels to have all of these choices," she said, taking a fork-full of salad. 

"I honestly can't remember the last time I got a chance to choose every part of what I ate and get it set up just how I want it. Thanks for doing that for me. I know it wasn't easy, but I'm so happy with this lunch! Perfection!"

I sat and stared at her for a moment, struck by how, over the past few years every single choice had been taken from her by her illness. She couldn't choose to be the wife and mom she wanted to be. She couldn't choose to make dinner for her family. She couldn't even choose to stand up and walk to the bathroom when she wanted. There was only one thing I could think of that she could still choose and she had chosen it that day. 

She had chosen to smile and be thankful.

I'm smiling today, remembering this particular day, and feeling thankful that she was mine. She was my friend, my sister, my role model. And I am who I am because of what she taught me.

Thoughts on Graduation

Sue's oldest child graduated from high school last night. It was so emotionally draining that I'm spending some time resting this morning. It was a wonderful night, and I was so proud. I'm not sure I've ever felt quite so proud. However, when facing happy life events, the grief is always there too.

All day yesterday I was humming a line from an old Queen song that says "pain is so close to pleasure". I understand what that line means now. I'll try to explain my pain/pleasure: 

I am SO PROUD of Sue's boy! So much pleasure! But Sue would be proud too, and she's not here to see this. PAIN. Look what he has accomplished! He has such a bright future ahead! More pleasure! But she will miss all of it. Ouch.

It's hard to put into words how daunting it is to think of all the milestones we have ahead: more graduations, first big jobs, weddings, babies, holidays. She won't be here for any of them. Not one. She never even got to see any of her kids get a driver's license. 

But here I am, watching, enjoying, being a part of her kids' lives. Why am I here and she's not? Why did her body get sick and shut down and I'm healthy? 

I don't know.

I do know that one of my biggest goals in life is to step in and feel all the emotions she would feel. I will take the pain so I can have the pleasure. 

The pain is overwhelming. But so is the pleasure. 

Gettin' Stuff Done!

Well that was a whirlwind of a weekend! 

Friday night we had the Battle of the Books. We didn't win, but we had fun.  Then Joe, Natalie and I attended the church lock-in. It was an overnight activity with play practice, movie night, popcorn, a loud, rowdy game of hide and seek, and finally sleep for our youth group of 12-14 year olds. Natalie then spent the rest of the weekend with her cousin at college for Little Sibs Weekend, and Ben went to a birthday pool party for a friend. On Sunday we had church, an Easter egg hunt, Sam went to a friend's house, Joe and I grocery shopped, and Natalie came home. Honestly, I was completely exhausted by last night.

Since I was at the Lock-in, I didn't get to do my Saturday morning walk.  I did do my run on Friday morning though! (That might have been part of why I was so exhausted by about 10 pm at the lock-in!)

Today, after getting all the kids dropped off at school, I went straight to the gym and did my run. I wasn't really wanting to, in fact I was downright crabby. But once I was on the treadmill it was okay.  

I made a good food decision by having a reasonable lunch. I nurtured myself by going to my therapy appointment (during which it was pointed out to me that I'm not doing a very good job nurturing myself--more in that in a later post).

I'm tired and ready for bed. Tomorrow I'll have yoga, and I'm already looking forward to it!

Goodnight!

Ready For Battle

Guess where I am! I'm at our very last middle school Battle of the Books meeting! This is good news for a few reasons:

1.  Our big battle, the thing we have been working toward since November, is tomorrow!

2. We are making team t-shirts tonight! So exciting!

3. I'm really super tired of being the Battle of the Books team leader. I'm really, really over it.  (Oops, this doesn't count as good news I guess)

4. I repeat: it will all be over tomorrow!

Today went well, mostly. I took the day off from exercise, and that made me happy. I got a lot of stuff crossed off my to-do list, which also makes me happy. I didn't make any good food decisions. I ate lunch at Wendy's and got a chicken sandwich with fries. I guess I could have gotten two chicken sandwiches and two orders of fries, so I guess we can count that, right?

I didn't nurture myself today either. I'm not doing so well with that goal lately. Tomorrow probably won't be any better though, because it's going to be a BUSY one. In fact I'm not sure I'll have time to post tomorrow night. I'm chaperoning an overnight kids' activity at church (and that's after the battle of the books). 

Tomorrow is my running day, though, and I definitely will be doing that first thing.  

Have a good night, and wish me luck!

And Also: Fitness!

                          A selfie.

I wrote a post about Sue earlier today but I didn't touch on how my day went with fitness and my goals. I started the day with my second run of the week. It went well and I'm not feeling sore at all tonight.  Yesterday I thought about maybe going to Zumba after my run, but today I realized that was completely insane! I was worn out after that run! 

So instead I went home, showered, and headed out to Costco, Kohl's, and Michaels to get some shopping done that I've been putting off. One thing I picked up was some new socks. I needed some for running and some just regular ones. I also bought a huge package of toilet paper (aren't you glad you read this blog?). 

This evening was full of homework, dinner, dishes, chores, and a treat: the kids and I watched Fuller House together on Netflix. It's very corny, but very cute. 

I can't think of anything I did to nurture myself, so that will be next on my list before bed. I just got a new meditation app on my phone, and I think I'll go try it out.  Tomorrow I have a day off from exercise and I'm looking forward to it!

Have a great night, and thanks for reading!

Hidden Happy Surprises!

This is a picture of me with Sue at a work party
when we worked together at Ford

I have written in this blog before about hidden grief land mines. They are little triggers that I don't see coming, that make the grief come to the surface and feel very painful. Today I want to talk about what I've decided to call "Hidden Happy Surprises". Fortunately this is a phenomenon that is happening to me enough these days that I needed to name it. This is a trigger that makes me think of Sue or my dad, but instead of feeling very painful, these experiences make me feel happy.

Today I hopped into my car while out running errands and turned on the radio. The song playing was called "The Freshman" by a group called "The Verve Pipe".  This song and band was at its height of popularity in the early to mid-nineties, when Sue and I were working together at Ford Motor Co. When I heard this song today, which I hadn't heard in years, I remembered a friend and co-worker of ours named Rob.  Rob loved this group with his whole heart. He had gone to college with the guys in the band and was so genuinely excited about their success that he would talk about them often.

Sue, upon first hearing about the group, mistakenly called them, "The Verve Pipes". Rob quickly corrected her. It was "The Verve Pipe," not plural.  The next time she referred to them as "Verve Pipe". Rob corrected her again. The word, "The" is part of the group's name.

Then it came flooding back to me that after that initial exchange, Sue went out of her way to always, ALWAYS refer to the band as either "Verve Pipe" or "The Verve Pipes". At first Rob would nicely correct her, and she would nod and say, "Ohhh, right! The Verve Pipe!" only to turn around and call them "The Verve Pipes" or "Verve Pipe" an hour later. It drove Rob crazy. It was such a stupid thing, but she continued annoying him this way for YEARS.

As I sat in my van, reliving all of this in my mind, I started to laugh. It was just SUCH a Sue thing to do. I laughed, and I laughed, and I laughed some more.

Somehow this memory triggered me to feel so happy instead of so sad. It's weird how this happens, but I still have a smile on my face because of this hidden happy surprise. I'm so thankful that I got to have Sue as my sister. She made me laugh constantly.

Tuesday, March 15

Today was kind of a low-key day, and I liked it! After dropping the kids off at school, I paid bills and did a bunch of paperwork. I took some time to read...a lot of time to read (hello, nurturing!). 

I made a good food decision by limiting my portion size at dinner. And this evening I went to yoga.

Tomorrow I'll do a run and I'm debating going to Zumba afterward because I miss Zumba but don't want to miss my running workout. Is that crazy? I'll let you know tomorrow how it goes. Goodnight!

Monday, March 14th

I'm sore. It was a good day, but I'm sore. I dropped all the kids off at school and went right to the gym. I started on week three of my couch to 5k training. It felt great while I was running, but tonight I'm feeling it!

After the gym I took the dog to the vet, then came home to do some cleaning and work around the house. After the kids got home, Ben and I did a kids' yoga video together.

My cute yoga partner 

I spent some time reading today as my nurturing. I made so many good food decisions I can't even list them all!

It was a good day, I got a lot done and did a great job with my fitness. I'm just hoping the soreness goes away before tomorrow.

Have a great evening!

Sunday Night Post

Good evening! It's been a busy weekend. Friday I spent my whole day taking care of my little girl after she had oral surgery. She was brave, but kind of had a hard time coming out of the anesthesia. Then later she had some pain, so I had to keep on top of her meds. I didn't work out on Friday.

My sweetie, Natalie, before her surgery 

Saturday I started the day with my dog-walking date and it was a wonderful, warm morning. It was much nicer than having to climb over snow drifts like we did a week ago!  After my walk I went to the gym to do my Couch to 5k running workout. I made a few decent food decisions, and I nurtured myself by talking with my friend on our walk.

Today I went to church (my nurturing for the day, I feel so much better about everything when I go to church!). Then it was off to my middle school Battle of the Books meeting. We only have one more meeting before our big battle on Friday night. (Go Team Book Scavengers!) 

Then it was off to the grocery store and finally, home to rest. Sundays are my days when I'm allowed to eat sugar, so I tend to go a bit overboard, and today is no exception. My good food decision of the day was to buy lots of good fruits and veggies for the upcoming week.

I'll end tonight's post with a picture of Sam with stickers all over his face. I'm not sure why he did this. He makes me laugh. Have a great week everyone!

Closer to Fine

I was looking for athletic pants for Joe, my oldest, at the store. He needs some pants to wear while he does his running workouts to prepare for our 5k. I looked up and recognized the woman browsing the racks next to me. I had a lengthy dialogue with myself in my head that went like this:

I know her. Who is that? Oh, right, a friend of Sue's. Should I talk to her? She knows Sue died, right? Oh right, I remember somebody told me that they had told her. Was she at the funeral? I have no idea. If I talk to her, what will I say? I'll have to remind her who I am. I'll tell her I'm Sue's sister. She will get that look in her eyes and she'll say, "I'm so sorry about your sister. How are you doing?" I'll have to tell her that I'm doing okay, no matter what I'm actually feeling because telling people you are not okay makes them very uncomfortable. She will tell me how sad that whole situation is, or that she can't believe that Sue is gone, or something else like this. I'll have to say something comforting to her. She'll ask about Sue's kids. Again I'll need to say that everything is going well, because telling people the hard truth just makes them upset. I will have to find a way to break away from the conversation and go back to trying to find pants for Joe. She'll look at me with sad eyes and walk away, probably a little more bummed out than when she arrived.

All of this took less than 10 seconds in my mind. I made a quick decision to turn the corner, and hide from her in the next aisle.

What you have to know is that this is very uncharacteristic of me. If I see someone in a store that I know, I will always, always stop and talk to them. So I started wondering why I hadn't talked to this woman. Then I began the questioning phase in my head, in which I go over my own behavior and try to figure out why I'm doing what I'm doing.

"What's wrong with me?" I wondered. My mind scrolled through possibilities:

I must be overly stressed right now.
I have entered into some new stage of grief that involves avoiding people in stores.
I'm depressed! I should call my therapist. Do I need to be medicated?
I'm so self-involved due to several issues with the kids that I have lost my ability to be social.
Sue's death has fundamentally changed who I am to the point that I won't talk to people in public anymore.
I'm avoiding my grief and therefore won't speak about my sister.

I finished my shopping, and went out to sit in my car. I was sad and upset, and needed a few minutes to sort through my feelings. Right then, my phone rang. My friend, Donna had called to check in with me.

Donna knows all kinds of things. She knows grief all too well, and I often bounce my issues off of her and she always talks through them with me. I explained to her what had just happened.

Donna said a lot of things, but what it all boiled down to was, "If you don't feel like talking to someone, you don't have to talk to that person."

Oh. Yeah. That's right. It's okay to just not be in a mood to be social. It doesn't necessarily mean that I'm having some sort of crisis, or I need to buy a self-help book, or I need to consult a doctor. Sometimes, as humans, we feel like talking, and sometimes we don't. Duh.

I drove away from the store and a song came on the radio that I remembered from when I was in college. I never paid much attention to the lyrics back then, I just liked the melody. I started to sing along:

I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain.
There's more than one answer to these questions
Pointing me in a crooked line.
And the less I seek my source for some definitive,
The closer I am to fine. The closer I am to fine.

(Closer to Fine, Indigo Girls)

I felt as I was singing the words, that they were what I needed to hear today. I felt like it was telling me to jut stop it with all the stupid overanalyzing, overthinking, second guessing, and worry. Sometimes the best explanation is the simplest. I haven't gone over the edge into darkness and despair. I just didn't feel like talking to this person, on this day, at that moment.

And the more I can lighten up on myself, the closer I am to fine.

Click here to hear the song

I dropped the ball...

Oh my goodness, did I drop the ball. I was going along, somewhat keeping up with my daily posts, and then suddenly I wasn't. Somewhere in the midst of snow days, band concerts, church deacon meetings, Junior Optimist club meetings, Battle of the Books meetings, orthodontist appointments, sick kids, a kid scheduled for oral surgery, and regular nights filled with homework, chores, and lunch-packing, I dropped the stinking ball!

The day-to-day-to-day business of raising these four kids, and, well, life, sometimes feels like it's getting the best of me. Our lives are good, though, and I'm not trying to complain. I just sometimes have the feeling that I'm on a merry-go-round that won't stop spinning and I want to get off!

Let's jump right in: I have not been doing well with getting my nurturing in. I am not taking time for myself as much, and I can feel it wearing on me. When life gets extra busy, time for relaxation is the first thing I throw out the window. 

Today I did my second running workout in preparation for our 5k race in April. I started on week 2 of a couch to 5k workout plan, and so far so good.  

My eating has been just okay. I'm still sticking to my lent no-sugar rule pretty faithfully (I had a few screw ups here and there). I could really use some work on portion control, though.

So, I'm picking the ball back up. I enjoy posting here on my blog, and I'm going to give it a good try to get back into the habit of posting most nights. 

I hope you are all well, and that you are all ready to start reading the details of my (not super) exciting life yet again!

Leap Day!

It was quite a day, friends. We started off the day with a funeral for my friend, Danielle's grandpa. It was so sad. She was very close with her grandpa, and it was hard to watch her and her family feel so much pain. 

From there, it was off to an appointment for Natalie with an oral surgeon. We scheduled her surgery for March 11. She is having two teeth extracted. 

We stopped for lunch at Olga's Kitchen, where I made my good food decision of the day by getting a veggie sandwich with no fries.

I didn't do any nurturing today, I also didn't do any exercise. I also have no idea how tomorrow might go, there are murmurings of a possible snow day tomorrow. Yes, ANOTHER snow day. I really hope this doesn't happen, I'm worn out from being around kids 24/7 since sometime Wednesday morning.

Well, we will see how this goes. I'll update tomorrow evening. Wish me luck!

I'm back!

I took a break from posting for awhile there. I'll sum up my absence this way:

1. A grief breakdown

2. My husband went out of town 

3. Huge snowstorm 

4. 2 1/2 days home with all the kids because of the weather 

5. No real exercise (except snow shoveling!)

I feel better now. I'm back and ready to start posting daily again. Some good things happened while I was gone. 

I started going to grief counseling again with a new counselor. I will only be going once a month and I think that will be perfect for me. 

I stuck with my no-sugar during lent plan! I was stressed as all heck, but I didn't break down and go crazy with sugar (no matter how badly I wanted to! And believe me, I DID want to!)

Finally, I signed up to run a 5K with Joe, my oldest kid! He is 14 1/2 and talks incessantly, so he's great at keeping me distracted. It's on April 23rd, so we have plenty of time to train.

Today I went to church (nurturing), I got no exercise, and I made a good food decision by eating a reasonable lunch and dinner.

Tomorrow I have a funeral to go to, followed by an appointment for Natalie, so I'm not sure how the day will go exercise-wise. I will check in tomorrow night.

I'm back, Baby! Enjoy your Sunday night!

Thursday, February 18

I felt better today. I had some running around to do and did not work out. I ate very reasonably until dinner. We went out for dinner as a fundraiser for Natalie's school choir and I ended up getting a coney with chili cheese fries. I should have made a better choice but it was gooooood!  

I don't think I did any nurturing today, so I need to work on that. 

Tomorrow I will be babysitting my nephew all day. It will be just the two of us, so I won't be able to go to the gym. We may go for a walk if it isn't too cold.

I will let you know tomorrow night! Enjoy your evening!

A Good Day, With a Side of Grief

My day was great. I got so much done. I went grocery shopping, went to the gym and did Aqua Zumba, and got a ton of things crossed off of my to-do list. I made really good food choices that included a nice salad for lunch.

The difficult part to my day came in the form of a hidden grief land mine. I was looking through Facebook posts and saw something someone else posted that reminded me of a conversation Sue and I had. This person happened to use the exact phrasing Sue used in our conversation.

Just like that, the tears were flowing. The "why can't I have my sister back?" thoughts flooded my brain. I was taken right back to what it felt like to have her in my life. She always had my back, she always made me laugh. There is now and always will be a big Sue-sized hole in my heart. She was a small person physically, but that hole is HUGE.

It hurts. It's not fair. I'm angry.

It was a good day overall, but the pain of grief knocked me down this evening, and I need some time to rest and process it.

Have a good evening, I'll check in again tomorrow.