When Reality Sucks

This quote hit me hard tonight as I was scrolling through some old posts and crying my swollen eyes out.
Because crying is apparently my new thing.
Just kidding---kind of. 

My car wouldn't start tonight. Actually, it started acting funky this morning but I prayed that it was just a fluke.

It wasn't. 

I cried the entire drive home {in my mother's car that she so kindly offered to let me borrow} because I was stressed beyond belief. I had an emotionally exhausting day---and then this.

Really?

My kids asked why I was crying so much and I voiced my feelings briefly about money and wanting to be the best mom for them and feeling like every time I try to get ahead, I get punched in the face. They were both so empathetic toward me and reminded me that it would be ok.

Because cars are just cars. It will get fixed and all will be well again. The car breaking down doesn't determine my happiness or my goodness or my worthiness. It is just a car.

But my goodness, if I could just CATCH A BREAK, that'd be super great. Most of the time, I feel like I'm drowning, like I'm stretched so thin that it wouldn't even be possible to fit in one more second of "life". I know that isn't true. Single mom life might be hard but there are so many reasons that it isn't hard. There are so many positives to the life I'm living now.

There has been so much growth. 

But with that growth comes questioning and doubt---it always seems to do that. I question if I'm really a good mother or if I'm just depicting myself that way on the internet. I question whether this is the real me or if the girl who heads straight to the couch after work and sits there for a while doing practically nothing is the real me---which would make me lazy and selfish. Is that really me? Or is there a greater amount of goodness that resides within my bones that once in a while needs a break after a long day of providing/school/homework/bills/parenting?

I think tonight I'll try to see myself in that second girl and not count the minutes I spend on the couch each afternoon while I tell my children to do their homework.

I always envisioned myself to be this super involved mother who sits at the kitchen table with a homemade snack for the kids and reads through every homework assignment with them. I envisioned the amazing talks we would have and the laughter that would accompany the conversation..

And reality is far different than the vision in my head of the mother I am "supposed" to be. Reality is telling the kids to get themselves breakfast in the morning or dinner at night when I am feeling too overwhelmed and tired. Reality is mindlessly scrolling through Facebook and answering random homework questions as they come. Reality is fast food and dirty clothes on the floor and not taking the time to shower for a few days because I'd much rather just sit---just sit and breathe and thank God we are all still alive.

Sometimes reality sucks.

But most of the time, the reason I think it sucks isn't because I am truly unhappy but because I have this vision in my head of what I'm supposed to be doing every second of every day. I have created this vision in my head of what the perfect mother would be doing.

And I have to remind myself that I am not the perfect mother nor will I ever be her. Part of that has to do with my current relationship status but let's get real here---I wasn't an amazing homemaker before my divorce. I struggled with cooking and cleaning and making sure everything was always in order.

But the kids? I didn't used to struggle with that. I didn't used to need so many breaks or accept the fact that independence would be coming much sooner for them than it would for most children their same ages.

I had help almost every day. I could rely on another adult to come home from work and be present in our home. I could go to the damn grocery store by myself!
Obviously these things are small and seem insignificant but they make a difference.

Sometimes I wish this wasn't my life but every time that happens, all I have to think about is the woman I am now versus the woman I used to be and then I remember that I wouldn't trade the person that I am for anything---not even for a husband.
And maybe that's weird. Maybe that seems confusing because had I not gone through all of this, I wouldn't have known any different. But the fact is that I do know different. I have learned things that have enabled me to teach my children things I never would've thought to tell a 5 and 7 year old. I look around at the people in my life who are all struggling uniquely and I can recognize that every single one of them is going through something that is hard for them.

We don't get to decide what is a hard trial and what isn't.

I might feel like a failure a lot of the time but during the small moments where my children are curled up in my arms or I witness them showing kindness toward others, I remember that I am getting some things right.

The next step is remembering those small victories during these exhausting and hard times.

I'll get there eventually...

Kindergarten: Round Two

 If there's one thing I've learned it's that divorce has made me a more protective mother.

Because I was there in the middle of the night, stroking the hair of a crying child who missed their dad. I was there when the confidence level shifted and there was worrying about stability and abandonment.

I watched it all.

And I have to tell you, over these past few years, my children have been some of the most incredible warriors I've ever seen. They've taught me so much about bravery.
I mean, I'm the adult and I haven't handled the past few years as eloquently as I could have but these kids? They've been amazing, all things considered.

Tonight I want to focus on my little man. I've had thoughts of this post in my head for about a month now but I wasn't sure if I could explain it or get through it without crying or breaking down---because my little man is so amazing. So so amazing.

From the time he was young, I knew he was sent here for a reason. I know, I know, we could each say that about each individual child but there was something different when Ninja was born.

I was protective of this boy. I remembering breaking down when he was a week old because we had visitors over and I hadn't held my boy in over 20 minutes. As I cried and the visitor kindly handed him back, I kept thinking, "What the heck is wrong with me? How could I miss a baby that was sitting right next to me in someone else's arms?"

I seriously thought I was crazy.

It's a little funny to me that I am so attached to this boy. He gives me a run for my money. He was our poop painter, our permanent marker wall artist, and he has a hard time not getting too aggressive with other kids when he's playing.
His listening skills aren't great---they're almost non-existent---but we've always been close.

When his dad left, I was so scared for this kid. I was afraid of what divorce would do to his little heart. He was only 3 when we separated.

And over the past two years, I've watched some significant changes in him and some of them have been messy.

I was scared about Kindergarten. I was seriously so so so so scared. I don't want my son to be labeled a 'problem' because he can't sit still or because sometimes he still has daytime accidents. I was worried about him because he isn't a big fan of academic work and he would much rather watch tv or play video games---both of which I try to limit in our home.

Leading up to the first day of Kindergarten, I was worried about whether his teacher would care about him and be able to help him in the best possible way---and I wasn't sure.
I wasn't sure because I don't believe anyone can be the kind of mother that I am for Ninja.

Sidenote: The irony?

Many times over the past year, I have argued with my therapist that I'm not an outstanding mother and that many women could do a better job than me. Each and every time, she would shake her head and disagree---firmly. And leading up to the start of Kindergarten, somehow I can see it now.

I can see how I am the best mother for this boy. It isn't a perfect job but it is what Ninja needs from me right now.


I was still worried on the first day of school. He looked so adorable and our morning was so positive so I made sure to keep my worries to myself so they wouldn't show. As I dropped him off, I felt ok about leaving him with his teacher and I smiled as I got in my car and started my drive to work.

But when I got on the freeway, I was a mess. Tears started to stream down my face and I realized these tears weren't about my fears for Kindergarten but somehow, I hadn't even thought about the fact that it is HARD to accept that my BABY is in school full day.

Because in my perfect world, I would be a stay-at-home mom right now with two or three more children running around this house. In a perfect world, I didn't plan on Ninja being my baby and I certainly didn't plan on ALL of my children being in school full time this soon.

I called my mom and she talked to me the whole way to work. I'm grateful she answered her phone that morning because I needed her to tell me this is all going to be ok.

You'd think this was the end, that our "Starting Kindergarten" story is over but it isn't quite wrapped up yet.

I had picked Ninja's particular school for two reasons: the full day schedule and the curriculum. The bus came and picked him up right at our neighborhood school and it seemed perfect.

And it was perfect---until he got home from school at 4:30 on the first day. Or when he got home at 4:45 on the fourth day.

I started to panic a few days ago when I realized this schedule wasn't working. I didn't want him gone so late and he wasn't doing well in the evenings after sitting on a hot bus for an hour after school every day.

So yesterday, I made the decision to switch him over to our neighborhood school. I called them, set it all up, and went in to sign him up this morning.

He even went with me to take a peek at his new-new school.

I am hoping that tomorrow goes well and that Ninja has another great first day of Kindergarten.
He is excited and I can tell he's a little nervous but I feel so much peace when I think about him being so much closer to me and to our home.

I'm still worried---I don't think that'll ever end---but at least I feel much more at ease.

Parenting is hard. Parenting school-aged children is hard. Parenting children of divorce seems extra hard. But we can do hard things.

In fact, we do hard things. Every single day.

I'm proud of this brave warrior that I get to call my son. He is so special and I feel so lucky to be able to raise him and watch him grow.

Summer Blues

Summer is kicking my butt so far. 

The house is a sticky mess. It already feels hotter than hell outside. And my theory of being more relaxed and letting the kids stay up later has made us all a lot grumpier. 

Hmph. 

I've been trying to get into a summer rhythm. 

I have a lot of things I'm trying to recover from---pretty much all of them being emotional messes---but being out of rhythm really throws off my recovery groove. 

So far, my statistics class seems like it's going to be my easiest which is ironic because every time I've considered signing up for statistics, I put it off another semester because I've been told how hard it is. I'm hoping this means statistics is one of my "things" and that I won't end up being a failure this summer with my classes. 

ASU is calling my name in the fall and I want to prove to myself that I can handle this whole online thing even with harder classes. 

This next part is going to make me sound spoiled and for that, I'm sorry. But the truth is that I've had a cleaning lady for the past 8 months. Yup. When I started working again last August, I realized I couldn't keep up with my gym membership because it took too much time and energy to try and go after school/work every night, especially since my kids are normally in bed by 7pm. A few weeks after juggling the school/work/mom circus, my house was disgusting (quite literally) and I found a cleaning lady who could help me out for a close enough price to the price I was paying on a gym. 

Well, now that I'm home more and doing school online, I cancelled the cleaning services because I can handle all of this...right? 

Well, so far, I kind of suck at it. I mean, online schooling is still schooling and it still takes up time and energy and I'm actually working more hours and my kids aren't gone most of the day at school. 

So our kitchen floor is sticky. Our family room carpet has crumbs on it. The kids room is all sorts of disastrous. 

But we try to clean every day. We try to push forward with whatever messes we get to. 

And when I don't clean up a mess for a few days, I forgive myself---because there is a lot going on and sometimes we choose other activities over cleaning. 

They'll only be little once, right? This is their only summer at these ages and I plan on being there for as much of it as I can be. 

Along with my summer blues, I've been trying to find time for myself. Time that does not include school or work or children. 

And that is NOT easy. 

It usually involves Netflix and ice cream. Or maybe blogging or going on a bike ride or talking to my friends on the phone. 

And once in a while, I make decisions to change my hair color. 

Case in point:

 *above-before, below-after*

As hard as it is to remember "me time", I know that I need it. 

I know that I cannot just function as a mother and a student and a biller and a dance teacher. I need to function as Suzanne. 

Sometimes I forget who she is or what her purpose is because it seems like I do everything for everyone else but when I have chances to remember her alone, I am reminded of her purpose. 

Of my purpose. 

I've questioned it a lot, what my purpose in life is. And maybe it sounds odd that this blog is a part of that purpose but I've always felt like writing was my thing, my way of helping others and reaching people whom I never would've met any other way. 

I don't need a million followers, I just need the right followers. 

I just need those of you who read this to know that people go through hard things and they can come out on top. It is possible. In fact, it is necessary. 

We have a chance to live and learn while we are on this earth. We have a chance to help others, to be teachers and colleagues and friends. We have a chance to be students to the people we come in contact with. We get to learn from them. 

Everyone has these unique experiences and since we can't all experience the same things (and trust me, we probably wouldn't want to), we can learn from the experiences of others.

To me, life is all about love and learning and rising above. It is about making choices that will make a difference in this world to make it a better place for our children to live. 

That is why I talk about uncomfortable things like pornography addiction and eating disorders and failed marriage. You might think I like talking about those things but often times, I struggle with knowing what to say and how to say it. 

But because they are my experiences and I'd rather you learn from me instead of going down that path yourself, I want to talk about them. I want to open up about how hard life can be---but I never want to forget how beautiful life can be too. 

I hope you never forget it either. 

And if you do forget it, I hope you can find that beauty again. 

It will always be there. 

365 Days of Divorce

 I wasn't quite sure what I expected to feel this week because the feelings I had these exact moments a year ago were quite confusing.
When the papers arrived in the mail with the date stamped February 18th, 2014, I knew what they held. In that large manila envelope was a series of paperwork, all signed and dated by a Maricopa County judge.

It was over.

Seven years of the life we had built were over.

Goodbye, commitment.

It all seemed so broken.

But I had been waiting for those papers because I wanted things to move on. I think I figured if those papers came, I could feel a sense of closure and healing.
That didn't happen. 
Instead I panicked. I turned to the comfort of my eating disorder. I started failing classes. I was full of anxiety most days. I cut off my friends and family slowly.
I didn't realize just how badly I was hurting. I didn't realize how much fear was the deciding factor in my daily choices.

This morning, I was on the computer and thinking about a year ago and the 6 months before that where the separation and lawyer meetings and fights and anger and figuring out custody were pretty much running my life. I looked up pictures from that time---I found the pictures I had uploaded 2 days before he left me. None of them had been edited or saved correctly on the computer. I don't think I had looked at them at all since sliding that memory card into the computer that day because two days later, my life was so drastically changed.

My kids seemed so little back then. I wish I could've bottled them up like this and protected them in so many ways. And then I think about it and I'm glad they've gone through it with me because my kids are some of the bravest I know. They have had to learn a lot about themselves throughout the past year and a half.

 The thing about divorce is that you and your ex-spouse are in charge of how things go.
In the beginning, these questions are started with: Who is filing the paperwork? Will you get lawyers? Who stays in the house? How often do the kids go from one house to the other? Who pays the other or is it evenly split? 
Those questions seem kind of obvious with divorce. Everyone has to figure them out.

But then there are the questions such as: What goals do we have after our divorce? Are we working together to keep our kids healthy and loved? Are we fighting in front of them? Are we going to swallow our pride and treat each other with respect? Are we going to allow the kids to be with the both of us in the same room?

 It's confusing sometimes. 
None of those questions were answered in a day. I've thought about all of them multiple times throughout this past year. I've figured out my personal boundaries and then changed them a few times to make sure I feel safe. I've prayed about my childrens' needs and tried my best to make sure they are ok. In fact, that alone has been the cause of a lot of my anxiety.

I want my children to come out of this as emotionally healthy as possible.

 And I believe they will.

Not only because of what I do for them but because of what their dad does for them. I don't need a marriage contract to know that he is a good dad. He has learned to be there for them too.

My anger toward my ex-husband has eased an incredible amount in the past year. I am working on forgiving him and I believe with the help of my Savior and His atonement, I will be able to completely heal and find my heart at peace.

 I really CAN believe it has been this long. In fact, it feels like it's been even longer. I feel like I've been single for years and I'm kind of, sort of, REALLY ready to change that.
But...God's timing is not my timing...and for today, I'm ok with that. Actually, my heart and my brain don't quite agree on what "my timing" should be anyway so I think it's best to just trust that God knows.

In the meantime, we are a year stronger and wiser. I really would never trade these past few years for anything. I know not everyone would say that and it may seem odd. It's not that I WANTED to be divorced---I didn't. But this past year has taught me just how capable I am of being on my own. I have grown up a lot and have become a much better person. I find myself looking at the entire world differently---more lovingly than I did before. I find myself realizing that sometimes the people we think are the meanest and rudest are the people who need us the most. Often times, the people not smiling are hurting inside and are longing for human connection.

Living with empathy is a much better way to live life. I wouldn't change the infertility or the divorce or the many 'disorders' I have on my medical records. Each and every time I am given something, I learn a whole slew of new things and I become a better person than I was before.

It's weird to think that I've only known about The Togetherness Project for a year because those people that I've met have been life-changing for me. It's weird to think that a year ago, I still didn't know why my marriage had ended. That came later. And although I have many days where the effects of my failed marriage haunt me, I know that I am strong enough to live with the memories and even smile when remembering some of them.

It wasn't all bad. In fact, a lot of it was good. 

Most importantly, I am grateful that it all happened. I am grateful for seven years of a marriage. I find myself learning from those experiences every day. I wouldn't change it. That took a while for me to be able to say. For a while, I blamed myself for getting married in the first place. Who does that at 19?!! (just kidding, to all of my teenage married friends) I didn't know if I could forgive myself for making what I had decided was a stupid decision.

But without my marriage, I wouldn't have my children. Without my marriage, I wouldn't have Togetherness or my ward family or the extended in-law family I was able to fall in love with for seven years. And without my divorce, I wouldn't be the person that I currently am. I probably wouldn't be pursuing a bachelors degree in Human Development and a masters degree in Counseling.

It isn't that staying married would've been horrible. It could've been amazing. We had the choice to make it amazing---and we did not both choose for that to happen.

Three hundred and sixty five days of this life---and I have faith that we will all be ok. 

Messy Transitions

Four days in.

This year has been a whirlwind already.

I spent the night before New Years in the hospital with some ovarian cyst problems. The next day, I worked a full day and spent the night at Brian Reagan with my family. On January 1st, I started cleaning and purging things we don't use and organizing the things we have.
These past four days I have organized room after room after room in my house.

Two of our bunnies have passed away. One on Dec. 29th and one on Jan. 1st. Princess Seal is still going strong and spends her nights in the kitchen so she doesn't freeze.

The kids were gone for 5 whole days. I spent most of that time working and cleaning but I was able to squeeze some friend time in there too.

I spent eight hours of my Saturday at traffic school due to a red light ticket. Am I the only one who didn't know that if you get a red light ticket and you pay the ticket, you STILL have to pay for and attend traffic school? So $400 later, here we are. Here. We. Freaking. Are.

I just got my kids back last night and today, our ward made an announcement that the boundaries would be reassigned.

I get it. I'm dramatic. I recognize that. I was immediately worried because I don't live on the same side of the neighborhood as my best friend and geologically, it seemed like we might be split right down the middle.

We weren't.

Instead, our ward was made even bigger and we now have a whole new subdivision of people to love.

That news was very welcome because I just wasn't sure how I was going to reign in my emotions if I was thrown into a new ward right now.

I get that I'm not always going to be here. I'm even ok with that. But right now, as I struggle to belong and find who I am within my Mormon roots, I am grateful for the friends at my side who are patient with me, who call me if I'm not at church and ask about me, who sit by me and have helped me through this year of messy transitions.

Because that's exactly what this is.

It isn't that I don't have a testimony. I do. It isn't that I don't like my ward. I do. It isn't even that other people make me feel secluded. They certainly don't. This is just a part of the grief and trauma I'm working through right now. I haven't decided what I want. I get confused a lot. I worry about what my future should look like and whether I'm doing everything the right way. I struggle without the Priesthood in my home. I find myself avoiding prayer. My safety net is the other 2 people I share my home with, my children. I often feel like we should just never leave our house to go into the world because it feels so uncertain.

But I don't want fear to run my life. I want to find peace. I want to understand the lessons in church. I want to be able to apply them. I want Sundays to be an exciting day for our family.

Right now, they aren't, and I'm trying to be gentle and patient with myself, instead of shaming myself.

Right now, it's ok that Sundays aren't my favorite. Sundays have been hard for over 2 years. Sundays have been a day I used to dread, as I toted my young toddlers to church by myself. At that time, I felt all alone. I remember how scary it was to be by myself and look out at the congregation and not feel like anybody understood.

It's different now. My ward is my second home. It is a place filled with people I love. Sundays aren't easy but they are easier.

I think the reason it's been such a messy transition lately has a lot to do with life calming down. I know---confusing. When life was crazy and I was hyper-focused on just making it through each day, I didn't have time to worry about church. We just went. But now that I'm getting used to being a single mom, life started to shift and in plain view were my fears about church. My fears of being single at church.

It feels like it's been a lifetime since I've had a partner to help wrangle the kids at church. I look around and see the majority of the families around me, a mom and a dad, both working together to keep their kids quiet. I can't remember what that feels like. I don't want to say that it's easy for them because I know it isn't. Kids and church are a hard combination. But it often hurts my heart to feel a loneliness that nobody at church can fill.

I'm tired of being alone.

Loneliness is an exhausting feeling.

It's hard to find my place during this messy transition that I'm in. I know I'll eventually find it. I know I'll eventually push my way to the top of this mountain and see the valley on the other side.

As I knelt down to pray last night, for the first time in a while, I had a long conversation with God about how shaky everything feels right now. It has been such a beautifully messy year and I want to understand it all.

People say there must be something better out there for me. Some days, I believe them and other days, I don't.

I have faith in my Heavenly Father's ability to help me. He has done it many times. Although these busy days have left me confused and sometimes anxious, I have given myself one goal to build my relationship with my Heavenly Father. One simple goal to pray once a day.

I don't care if it seems small or if people don't quite understand my struggle. That's ok. I don't even quite understand my struggle. But I am trying. I am pushing forward through this mess because I am worth fighting for.

I am precious to my God.

Just Try Harder

I remember when I first became a stay at home mom back in 2010 and my kids were 2.5 years and 9 months old. I remember thinking to myself that I had it all.
I had a husband who was in school and working. I had gorgeous, healthy children. I had friends. I loved church.
Money didn't matter. We weren't ever rich but I didn't care. We payed our bills. We fed our children.
I was happy.
I had everything I had ever wanted.

It's been 4 years and 3 months since then. Everything has changed. Most of the things I loved don't feel existent right now.

I miss out on so many things with my children. Parties at school, playdates, moments when they just want their mom, etc. I'm not always there. I can't always be there.

I hate it.

I don't hate my job. I don't hate school. But I really, truly find myself resenting divorce because of the many changes.

A lot of the times I can get through the hard moments, trusting that there are also many beautiful moments ahead. I try to stay positive. I try to forgive and not judge and love the people around me.

But I don't always succeed. Today I didn't succeed.

Today it wasn't possible to be tough and hold back the tears like I normally do. I couldn't handle the stress.
I couldn't handle the thought of one more day where my kids would have neither of their parents at a school program to cheer them on.
And then I got a call that Ninja had an accident at school and I cried thinking about everything our divorce has put him through. He isn't as emotionally transparent as his sister but the scars are still there. The accidents and the finger-sucking and the baby talk---they are all signs that he is hurting and scared.

The guilt was weighing heavily on me. And along with the guilt, I was angry at the decisions that placed us all in this position. I thought I had let that all go or that I was at least getting better about letting it go but today it all came back.

Today it felt like a punch in the stomach.

All of these things I didn't choose that have effected my life in some of the most heart-wrenching ways just seem so unfair and messy.

When my heart feels this way, it's really hard to not question God. When everything first went down a year ago, I seriously wondered if He had made a mistake in allowing yet another hard thing into my life. Although I know He doesn't make mistakes, I still doubted my capabilities.

Let me rephrase that---I still doubt my capabilities. I do. It isn't a constant doubt but it shows up from time to time.

I used to wonder why certain people didn't seem as engaged at church or didn't attend every Sunday. I used to find myself wondering and maybe even judging people who were less active. Although I was a defiant teenager, I had never truly experienced those feelings {until this past year} and my lack of understanding caused me to think they must've not been trying hard enough.

It sounds so simple. Just try harder.

I love my church. I have a strong testimony and know that Jesus Christ died for me. But I struggle to feel like I belong. I often feel alone when surrounded by some of the most incredible people in my life who are there for me at church. I hold babies and make comments and sing hymns but it isn't always easy. In fact, a lot of the times it is really hard.

I struggle to keep my children in sacrament meeting. That has always been a challenge with my son. I try to stay patient but we usually end up in the hallways or we go late so I don't have to deal with it.

I struggle to stay in Relief Society---especially when we talk about eternal marriage or families. It is really painful to know you don't have what so many people have. It's hard to feel like people don't understand why you're single. It's hard to hear those lessons and feel like a piece of you is missing because your family is broken. You are no longer the "typical Mormon family".

I struggle to substitute in Primary callings. Because after that first hour of "heaven and hell" all I want to do is drop my kids off and breathe for two hours...and then go home and take a nap.

But I should just try harder, right? That's what I would've told myself a few years ago. I should go to church and set the example for my kids and practice more patience.

There are days I don't want to go to church. There have been moments in the past year where I've decided I wasn't going to go back. My testimony has always gotten me there but it doesn't take the struggles away.

It is possible to have a testimony and not want to go to church.

It is possible to feel an aversion to prayer or scripture study and not be a horrible Mormon.

It is.

I know what I want to teach my children. I still fight most weeks to get us all to church. But it is hard. Being a good Christian no longer looks the same way that it used to in my mind. Being a good Christian means trying---sometimes failing---but getting up and trying again. It means fighting for peace when peace seems nonexistent. It means trying to love myself the way my God loves me---and that includes not beating myself up for missing church or falling asleep without praying.

Although I often have an easier time talking about things "after the fact", I want today to be real. I am staying afloat. I am not swimming like a champion and I am not drowning. I am just struggling to float and not fall any further.

I don't necessarily doubt that we will get through this divorce and stand strong like the warriors that we are but somedays, like today, are just so hard.

I know my kids will see my sacrifices someday. I know they will understand when they are older. I'm just so done with missing out on so many things and feeling so exhausted from trying to be their mom and provide for them and giving myself time to be me.

It's probably not impossible---but it seems impossible today.

I am a Child of God

 Tonight was a night of reading old blog posts.

I was reading through the posts of when our separation began and when that separation turned into a divorce.

It was hard to read because I can remember the feelings I felt as I wrote. Even on the most uplifting posts, I know how scared I was in those moments. I know how raw those feelings were.

I read through a few posts about my kids. I was reading about how it wasn't fair for them to have to share their parents and go through these trials. I was so worried about them. Their sweetness had turned to anger and sadness that seemed to last months. Some of the ways they react to situations now are things I noticed had started after their dad left.

But I think of all the ways they've grown.

They were so little back then. I felt so guilty putting my 5 and 4 year old through a divorce. It didn't matter that we were extremely amicable in front of them or that we talked positively about each other when the other wasn't around. Scratch that, it did matter. But they could still feel the changes and the stress and the anger.

I keep thinking about how much I've learned this past year. I am a different person than I was. I am a better person than I was. I am more resilient and less judgmental.

And then I think about my babies. Physically, they look so much older than they did a year ago. But they have grown much more than that. They are different. They are wiser. They are closer to their Heavenly Father.

Often times, instead of giving my kids answers to their every day challenges, I ask what they think they should do. Then I ask them what they think Jesus would do. At ages 6 and 5, they are grasping the concept that they are children of God so strongly.
Every day, as they each leave the house for school or babysitters, I tell them, "Mommy loves you. Jesus loves you. You're a child of God."
One day, as Ninja hopped out of my car for preschool and my mind was thinking about the fact that I was running late and had a busy day ahead, all I said was, "Goodbye. I love you." and a few seconds later, he poked his head back in the car and said, "I'm a child of God, mom!"
I haven't gone a day without saying it since then.

Two days ago, my little Warrior Princess came in my room and handed me a piece of paper.

As I read the words "I have worth. I am worthy of love.", I couldn't keep myself from smiling and giving her the biggest hug.

She sees that message every day of her life when she walks in my room and for some reason, those are the only two sentences on my 'whiteboard of positive messages' she reads outloud to me almost every day.

These same messages have been on my white board for 6 months now. They all apply and help me. And in turn, they help her.

I remember the first day she read "I have worth" and asked me, "Mom, what does that mean?". I got to sit on my bed and explain to my little 6 year old what true worth is and where it comes from.
I pray every night that she always remembers.

We aren't a perfect family. They are not perfect children. I am far from being a perfect mother. But I don't think perfection is the ultimate goal on earth. Perfection is something we attain when Christ makes up where we fall short.

Every day, I try to become like my Savior and every day when I fall short, He sends me reminders that I am still worthy of Him. I always will be. Whether He has to make up 10% or 80% for me, He still loves me.

I'm so proud of my children. I am proud that I am their mother and that we are together for eternity. I am proud of the choices they make and the love they show toward other people.
I love who they are. I love being able to witness who they are becoming.

ANASAZI Lessons

 Raising children is hard.
Going to school is hard.
Working is hard.
Keeping my house clean is hard.

Trying to do all four of them as a single mom is hard.

And lately, I feel like I've been failing in at least 3 of these categories at a time. I've been so overwhelmed. My eyes start to droop around 7pm because I'm just so exhausted. I don't know if I've ever felt this exhausted, not even as a mom of a newborn. But maybe I just forgot what that felt like.

I've had so many nights where I lay in bed and wonder how I'm going to get everything done the next day. How am I going to have time to sweep the floor and fold some laundry and do two homework assignments and give my kids quality time with their mom?

And the thing is, I don't have time for it all. That would explain the sticky floors, the sink full of dishes, and the laundry that's been sitting in the washer for a few days. It would also explain the amount of tv my kids have watched in the past week.

I've felt like a failure so many times in the past week and most nights, I'm so close to tears when I think about the times I told Petey she had to pack her own school lunch or get her and her brother breakfast because I just couldn't do it.

But we've pushed through. When I feel like I can't keep doing this, I keep doing it anyway. I just focus on one small step at a time.

Today as I was thinking about one of my favorite motto's, "I can do hard things", my mind went back to 17 year old me.

 This is her. Her name is Kissing Sun Firefly and she spent six weeks of her summer learning how to make fire out of wood and a piece of rope, cooking with a tin can and dried foods, hiking 20+ miles a week with everything she had on her back, and sleeping under the stars every night.

Out there, I learned what it means to do hard things. There were so many nights I would cry myself to sleep because I was so lonely out there. I often felt misunderstood by my parents and even by my group of youngwalkers and trailwalkers. That first week was physically exhausting and I got so dehydrated that I was vomiting uncontrollably during one of my first big hikes.

I remember feeling like I would die out there. I remember being so embarrassed that I had gotten dehydrated and I wondered how I would ever make it. But I kept focusing on one more step and then one more and one more until finally, I had made it to our week's destination. I remember the tall grass, the ants all over the dirt, and the girl with the curliest blonde hair I'd ever seen reading her Book of Mormon to me to calm me down. I layed there under the sun, wondering how I had gotten from point A to point B without dying.

I felt like I had accomplished something so incredible that day.

A few weeks later, we were hiking through a dried up river bed and I had my hands through my sleeping bag/backpack and all of a sudden, I tripped and my hands weren't able to catch my fall. But my face did. I could feel my lip swelling as the blood ran down my chin. I couldn't do this anymore! Hiking was too hard. I couldn't handle being out in the middle of nowhere and getting hurt. But I kept going that day. I cried a lot because my battle wound really hurt but I kept hiking and we made it to our destination. That afternoon, I walked down to the dried creek bed and sang, "For Good" from Wicked over and over again. I cried. I sang. I listened to the wind. I felt peace. I knew I could finish this hard thing. I knew I could work things out with my parents and believe in myself.

I knew I could do hard things.

ANASAZI taught me lessons I still apply in my life. It was a turning point in my life. I was strong before ANASAZI but when I came back from those six weeks, smelling worse than death but feeling happier than I had in a long time, I was a warrior.

And I'm still a warrior.

I have felt so much failure recently that I have to take a step back and look at the big picture. Sometimes the small picture doesn't show me what I've accomplished because it emphasizes all of the things I'm doing wrong.

But the big picture---the big picture shows me how far I've come and how much I am capable of enduring.

So tonight, I'm not going to focus on my messy house or my children that went to bed in their school clothes. I'm going to focus on the fact that I worked five hours and came home and did homework with my daughter while babysitting two extras, and then I took 3 online quizzes and got all A's and wrote an essay.

And now I'm here and it's ok that I'm still not choosing to clean. I've done enough for today.

I can't do it all but I can do enough.

And God Said, "Slow down!"

 Once upon a time, I was in the school counselor's office trying to figure out how to graduate from community college by May 2015. It was decided that I would take 17 credits Fall '14 and 15 credits Spring '15 so that I'd be ready to graduate and transfer to ASU.

I chanted the, "I can do hard things" quote in my head over and over again as I signed up for 6 classes and tried to figure out a schedule that worked for my life.

Sigh...

It took most of the summer. I kept leaving the task for another day because it was stressing me out.

Sometimes being a single mom sucks. It was so dang hard to find a schedule that would fit the classes I need and keep us in a mostly normal routine.

I finally did it and signed up for all Tuesday/Thursday classes, all during the day---except for one stupid class that I could only find on Thursday nights.

I figured the sacrifice would be something I could handle for four months. And the thing is, it was possible.

But right when school started, I decided to go back to work. And right when I decided to go back to work, Spidey started preschool.

And right when all of this happened, Spidey started crying a lot when he would get dropped off to babysitters.

And my mom guilt became a huge burden because all I wanted to do was quit everything and stay home with him all day, every day.

So let's recap:
A week into my new job and school starting, I was ready to throw it all away.
A week.

 Well, God knows me. He knows I won't just quit, even when things are really frickin hard. He knows I'll kill myself until I get everything fit into our crazy schedule.

I'm the least perfect perfectionist in the entire world. Our house is crazy, our schedule is crazy, and my kids are sticky-faced and wearing mismatched shoes.

But I'm really hard on myself and I try to fit it all in and get it all done.

 Well, due to some unforseen circumstances, I was dropped from my Thursday night class. When I found this news out, I had a moment of panic and I just wanted to crawl in a hole. But following my panic, I felt an incredible amount of peace come over me and I felt like God was saying, "Slow down!"

He knows how busy we are. He knows that it's hard for Spidey to get used to having a working mom. And I feel like he found a way to teach me that it's ok to slow down a little bit.

I can't be a super mom. I can be the mom that my kids need but I really can't be much more.

Most days, I'm just hanging on by a thread. I've been struggling a lot lately and I just can't seem to find my bravery that everyone else seems to believe I have within me. I'm not giving myself breaks. In fact, I've been pushing myself harder than ever before.

So God said, "Slow down." and all I could do was nod my head and realize that He is right.

I have my whole life ahead of me. I'm only 26 years old and my kids are still young. We can slow things down a tiny bit sometimes. As much as I want to rush through school and be able to provide a better life for my kids RIGHT NOW, I feel a whole lot of peace tonight as I think about how rushed we already are.

I can do hard things...but I don't have to push myself farther than I need to right now.

It's ok that I need to slow down. It doesn't make me weak. It just makes me human.

Back To Work!

 Four years ago, I was faced with a really hard decision.

Keep working or quit my job.

At the time, Petey was 2.5 and Spidey was 9 months old. It had been really difficult for me to continue working since Spidey had been born but I knew that is what our family needed me to do at that time.

But 9 months into his life, the possibility of staying home became more of a reality. I prayed about it and decided to put in my two weeks at Gilbert Pediatrics.

And for the past four years, I have been a stay at home mom.

I have loved so many things about these past four years. I have loved being with my children and taking them places and having more freedom to make our own decisions of what our day would look like. I have loved watching them grow up from babies into school-age children and being their main influence during these times. I realize just how lucky I am to have had these past four years.

Then a year ago happened. And when a year ago happened, I was faced with another heavy decision---keep staying home or go back to work. And again, I found myself on my knees, pleading with my Heavenly Father to find a way for me to continue to be with my children. With all of the issues they have had, they needed me this year. I don't doubt the decisions I made.

But now I am in a different situation. A year has gone by and I have a child in school full time.

Then my baby decided to go and start preschool...

Really? Is he really old enough for this?

And last week, my sister asked if I would be willing to help her catch up on some billing things down at Gilbert Ped's and I told her that would definitely be a possibility for a few weeks.

And I can't even describe to you how everything has fallen into place. From the preschool schedule to the babysitting to the timing of this job, it has all kind of worked out.

I could do it for two weeks. I knew I could. Even though I wouldn't be there to pick up Spidey from his first day of preschool, we would get through this and he probably wouldn't even care.

But after working most of the day on Friday, I started thinking about how much I love working for my dad's office and being in that environment and I started budgeting and looking at the financial difference it would make.

And so I made a proposal to my sister and my boss and asked for a part time job.

So now I work.

I am a working, single mother of two and a FULL TIME STUDENT with 17 credits.

I might lose all of my hair by the end of the semester but I know that this is what needs to happen right now.

My mom guilt has set in and I made a phone call to Spidey when he got to the babysitter's house after school today to see how preschool went. Of course, he talked for about 5 seconds before handing the phone back.

 It is REALLY hard for me to think about the fact that I am leaving him 5 days a week between work and school and then I have to give him up every other weekend. I am going to miss our leisure mornings together, snuggling up on the couch and talking about life. This kid has been my life for the past four years. My identity has been mother and I have loved it. I still love it. But now I have other identities.

 Just as it was hard to let my big girl go to school ALL DAY, it is going to be an adjustment to get used to being away from my boy.

I feel so incredibly lucky to have the opportunities that I do and there may be a day where I am a stay at home mom again.

But for now, I will make the most of the afternoons I have with my kids and the weekends we get to spend together.

I Am Here

I am here.This is exactly where I am.
Right here.

I've been thinking a lot the past few days. I do that sometimes---think. I am nearing my year mark of living on my own.
A whole year.
I kind of can't believe it but at the same time, it feels like it's been longer. It depends on the day.

In this year I have slept in my bed alone, not had help with baths/bedtime 75% of the time, made grown up decisions on my own, finished two semesters of school, juggled friend time and kid time and now 'single people' time, been the "room mom" at Petey's school, taken my kids to extracurriculars, taken trips by myself with the kids, and I've even gone on a few dates.
Divorce life is weird. It just is. It's hard and weird and messy and I'm still figuring out how I should navigate this new life between kids and being single and my many, many married friends. It's tricky a lot of the time.

I've gotten more babysitters in the past year than all of the previous six years combined. I'm so grateful for all of the help and the prayers and the late night talks. A whole year has gone by and I still feel surrounded and supported by the people who love and my children.

I felt a strong impression to start writing this blog back in 2009, right after my son was born. At the time, my post-partum depression was pretty rough and I needed an outlet. But most of my posts were crap. Most of them weren't real.

I wanted so badly to write about real things the first 2.5 years my blog existed. But I wasn't brave enough to share my life.
Then infertility happened. I needed this outlet. I needed to write my feelings about what was happening and I wondered if others needed to hear it as well.
Judging from the comments and the emails, they did. People related to my words. I learned a lot of stories from a lot of people that came from all different walks of life.

Since then, I've decided to keep my blog as real as I can. Although not everything is blog appropriate, a lot of the things I'm passionate about are. Everytime I write, I put effort into my words.

But along with being so real, I take some risks.
Any person can come here and see that:
I am divorced. I am passionately against pornography. I have two kids. I have an eating disorder. I'm kind of crazy.
{Although that last one isn't proven...}
One of the hardest parts of having a blog is that everyone gets to know about you before you get to know anything about them. It's something I choose everytime I push publish.
I know it's a risk. I know a lot of the people that read my blog don't personally know me. I can't force you to trust me or believe in what I am saying. Many of you won't and that's ok with me. But this is my side of the story. It is a story I get to share whenever I want because it is mine. I do hope that when you read, you see a little piece of my heart. I hope you see that I am a genuine person.

Because I haven't quite decided if you knowing so much about me without me trusting/knowing you is a good thing. I still feel like it's right to be doing this and putting my words out there for everyone to read but that doesn't always make it easy. It is still scary a lot of the time. I still think long and hard before submitting my posts and sharing them on Facebook.

Because this is my real life, people. These are my ups and downs, my good and my bad, my faith and my fear. These stories aren't made up. They happen in my life. The emotions I write about are real emotions.

I am scared every time I come on here but I am also brave. I feel like this is one of my callings in life. I don't see a point in trials if I don't turn around and help someone overcome their trial through my empathy and understanding. I come here to help sort out my thoughts but also to help you, maybe just one of you. It's ok with me if it's just one of you. I am here to show you that you are not alone.

That is a truth that I know without a doubt.

You are not alone.

Our Imperfect Perfections

I used to cling to the fact that someone understood my pain when I was in the midst of my infertility trials. I used to imagine Christ suffering for my pain in Gethsemane and it helped me to feel a little less alone. I felt like my situation was so uncommon; two kids conceived quite easily and then a diagnosis of secondary infertility. I felt like no one could understand my pain because it just didn't make sense to anyone. But Christ knows.

Christ wouldn't want us to compare our imperfections to the things talked about on Father's Day or Mother's Day. He would want us to recognize our own personal strengths and celebrate them. Our weaknesses are different and everyone has them. Even though we are weak, we can be amazing human beings. Christ wouldn't want us to feel anything less than amazing.

Those of us with hard marriages (or ended marriages) may have a hard time feeling amazing on these days. We may question why we married an addict or a liar or a man who doesn't treat us right when it seems like everyone around us is living the life we wish we had but I will let you in on my theory of this. I feel like admitting that we struggle is the first step in becoming more of a loving community and world. (I know, I dream big.) Admitting we aren't perfect but that we each have our own uniquely good qualities is a step in the right direction.

I had a discouraged friend today. My friend is married to a man with a pornography addiction. He is a good man. He has an addiction. His addiction doesn't make him a bad man or father. Anyway, in church today, the speaker said these words from the pulpit, "A remarkable man respects women enough to stay away from porn." Dagger-to-heart. I can understand that the speaker was trying to make a point about righteous fathers and the choices they make but the problem is that even righteous fathers struggle! And guess what? Some of them struggle with pornography or sex addiction or alcohol or drugs. Gasp! Good men aren't perfect men.
I have a feeling a lot of fathers left that sacrament meeting feeling discouraged because they were not considered remarkable and I hate that. I hate that sometimes Father's Day or Mother's Day is a day where we list all of the things we should be doing as women and men and instead of finding the things we are personally good at, we start to feel discouraged because we feel like we aren't enough.

I've been thinking about this a lot today as my Facebook feed has blown up with posts about everyone and their wonderful husbands and fathers. I've been thinking about my friends who can't see the greatness in their husbands or fathers because of addiction or other painful circumstances. I feel their hurt. Sacrament meeting was hard for me too. It was hard to hear about the qualities of a righteous father. It was hard to hear wives doting on the amazingness that is their husbands. Because we all deserve that---but we don't all receive it.

But even if it hurt something inside of me, I wouldn't want them to stop. Fatherhood is so incredible and fathers are so important. And it makes me happy that so many people I know have incredible husbands and fathers. That is wonderful!!!

Being on the other side of things makes me more sensitive to the people around me on days such as Mother's Day and Father's Day. I've learned that this year. I've learned how hard these particular days can be for people. I've heard stories of people leaving church feeling discouraged because they just can't measure up to the things that are spoken of on Mother's and Father's Day. I wish I could ease their pain. I wish I could show them that there is hope and happiness ahead. But I can't and you can't. We each have to find these things for ourselves.

But tonight, I hope you know that despite your individual circumstances and your feelings about today, Christ knows you. He knows your pain and He knows your happiness. He knows your heart. You are never alone. He suffered for you and I. It takes an incredible amount of love for someone to do that for each and every one of their brothers and sisters and He did it---because He loves you.

The Loss of Tradition

 How is it that every time I'm struggling---every dang time---I always seem to hear/read/feel what I need to hear/read/feel?
Tonight was no exception.
I was feeling sorry for myself. Feeling sorry that for five days this month, my children won't be in my home. And I'm not talking five days total---I'm talking five days in a row.
And do you know what two of those days are? Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.

I'm going to miss these happy faces and squeals of excitement as they open gifts from Santa.

 I'm going to miss seeing them in their new Christmas pajamas.

I'm going to miss too much. And then in 2 years, I'm going to miss it all again.

It's realizations like this that seem unfair. How? Why? When? I ask myself how I got here, why I got here, when I got here.

My children are my life. I'm serious. You can ask anybody. And I don't care one bit if you think that is healthy or not. I wouldn't trade them for anything. I eat, sleep, and breathe motherhood. I take short breaks from it when I'm in school but the whole time, I'm thinking about my kids. I stare at pictures of them when they're not here. I think about their past, their present, and their future and I'm constantly worried about whether I'm doing this parenting thing right.

So tonight, I was struggling. There is so much to be learned with this new life and most of it, I just don't like.
I was perusing one of my new favorite blogs when I came across this post. It couldn't have been more perfect.
Breaking tradition. Not having the traditional family. I have to get used to living with these things. I need to find ways to be happy and have a life of my own.
But I don't want to. I want my children to engulf my life. I want to hide behind their greatness. I want them to be my one and only life.
Unfortunately I have no choice anymore. I am breaking traditions and I'm going to successfully pick myself back up and walk once again.
I'm strong. I know it. I feel it. I may not want to be strong but I am.
I can do hard things.

Christmas is going to be extremely hard. I have to decide where to go, what to do, NOT to sign in to Facebook, etc. I have to decide whether I want to be happy or miserable on my own this Christmas.
But I can do this.

I can do hard things.