I Owe It All to My 18 Year Old Son......

The song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” played at our wedding – I stood in foyer of the church and listened to the words knowing that many rough and rocky roads had led me to where I was standing.  The doors swung open and I suddenly became a bride – the crowd stood and your dad’s eyes filled with tears.  I remember looking at you both – the weight of this new adventure rested squarely on my shoulders – truthfully, I was scared to death – I had no idea how to be a wife or a mom so I did the only thing I could…..I put one foot in front of the other and walked down the aisle…..   

Much of the last 10+ years have been like that – me scared to death – just putting one foot in front of the other.  Most days I’m convinced that I’ve made a horrible mess of it all but on days like Saturday, I see a glimmer of hope that just maybe I didn’t totally screw it all up.  I think back to days, like our wedding, where you were waiting at the end of the aisle – you had no idea how it would all work out but you loved me anyway.  There are few moments in life that leave really profound footprints on your heart but that day was one of those for me.  It wasn’t the flowers or the dress or the “wedding” – it was you and dad waiting for me at the end of that aisle.  Prepared to walk through life with me – to love me in spite of the many mistakes I was sure to make.  Completely trusting that I would figure it out, eventually.   

When a child is born there is a physical connection – an instinct that kicks in – a love that bubbles up from somewhere inside of you.  It is undeniable and unexplainable – it is terrifying and amazing all at the same time.  It is a beautiful thing – no doubt – but when God places a child in your life, when He places the hand of that child in yours, something equally amazing happens.  It is also terrifying and amazing – undeniable and unexplainable.  It is a miracle in the rarest of forms – there is suddenly a connection that is created, not by blood or DNA, but by God.  There is a love that defies all odds and knows no boundaries for it isn’t supported by anything that science can explain.   

No one could have prepared me for being your mom – no one could have explained what it means to be “picked” by someone.  You had a choice and you chose me – undeserving and flawed and imperfect (although I’m sure the chocolate chip cookies helped) – you believed in me, you loved me, you respected me, you made me your mom.  The gift that you gave me is one that most people will never understand – every parent is blessed but few are given the gift of parenthood by a child that had a choice. 

I’ve certainly failed you on more than one occasion – I’ve been impatient and short tempered – I’ve worked too much and taken a lot of moments for granted but I hope that you know how grateful I am that you chose me.  I hope you know that on the hardest of days I think back to you standing at the front of that church and I draw strength – how could I offer anything less than my best when that sweet 7 year old boy is cheering me on.  How can I doubt myself when such an amazing kid saw enough in me to believe that I would figure it all out.  You made me a mom and that is a blessing that I will never take for granted.   

I love you more than you can possibly fathom – my heart aches when I think about you not being at home but I know the man you’ve become and I know you will do amazing things.  Always remember that when things get tough, I believe in you and I choose you – EVERY SINGLE TIME.  Nothing – not time or distance or DNA can change that – I will always be a phone call away.  I’ll be on a plane, I’ll get on a boat, I’ll charter a sub, I’ll do whatever it takes to be there, if you need me.  Never doubt my love for you or the place you have in my heart – you are my hero, my firstborn, my retirement plan (just kidding about the retirement thing – well kind of).  I love you and I’m forever in your debt.

Love,

Mom

A baby dedication - 18 years later.....

I sat in that auditorium with 6000 other parents/family members – all cheery faced and excited to watch their teenager walk across the stage.  I wondered if I was the only one that secretly wished that my kid had failed a couple of grades.  As I sat there I replayed so many moments in my head – this was the day or reckoning – this was the day of true sacrifice. 

 

When our babies were newborn we dedicated them to God.  We stood in front of our church family, locked arm in arm with each other, faces beaming with pride and gave a vow to God to raise our children to be Godly people.  We gave them back to God – we admitted that He alone was the giver of this precious gift and that we would ultimately trust Him with this precious life.  Then we strapped our sleepy bundle of joy back in their carseat, covered them with a blanket, went home, locked the doors, tucked them in to bed and listened to the baby monitor all night long…..prepared to jump in to superhero mode if we heard so much as a whimper. 

 

As the years went by, we walked them to school – I trust you God.  We watched them as they walked down the hall to class (out of sight of course) – I trust you God.  We screened friends (and their parents), we called cell phones, we waited up, we made balanced meals, we monitored homework and internet use – I trust you God.  We lectured, we loved, we laughed, we cried – but today…….today felt different.  I couldn’t follow him down the hall.  My moments were slipping away, like sand in an hourglass.  Soon the rubber would meet the road.  Would I really trust God with my precious gift?  How could anyone love him the way that I love him – how could anyone know him like I do – how could anyone truly understand what an amazing heart my boy has??    

 

To you, he looks like a teenager.  Gangly and clumsy – growing in to a fine young man.  You may see a US Navy Sailor – the one who will defend the freedom of this great country.  You see a young boy full of hopes and dreams – full of puppy love for the high school sweetheart he will leave behind.  His future seems bright – the possibilities are endless – he is excited to start his journey.  So why do I feel like Abraham – leading Isaac up the mountain.  Why does my heart feel such pride and sorrow all at the same time??  Gladness and grief both struggling to occupy the same spot in my heart??

 

As I sit in the stands and watch my boy, now a man, make his way across the stage, I am overcome with fear.  How do I let him go – how do I know that I’ve done my part - how did the years slip by so fast, so unnoticed?  I scrutinize every word, every action, every moment and I know that now is when I must truly trust God to take care of him.  Now is the true dedication – now is when I really lay him before the throne.  Now is where I let go and letting go is hard – he is my boy, my friend, my biggest blessing and my hero – I will miss him, his laughter, his sighs when I ask him to take out the trash – even his dirty room.  And my heart aches because I know that this moment changes everything.

 

This boy that we’ve spent the last 18 years loving and protecting will get hurt, he will fall, he will fail, he will get his heart broken.  He will probably see atrocities that most of us only see on television, he will bear a weight that many of us cannot even fathom.  He will be lonely and scared – he will cry – he will miss my home cooking.  I know all of this and yet I must lay him down – I must let go.  My opportunity is gone – my role as his mother is changing with every second – now is where I realize the weight of the vow that we made all those years ago……   

Why me??

A few years ago (4 years and 15 days ago to be exact) my husband and I suffered a miscarriage.  It was a tragedy; although, by some standards it was not nearly as bad as it could have been.  But to me it was and always will be a tipping point in my life.  Up until that moment I knew life wasn’t fair and I knew that being a good person didn’t buy a free pass to the “good life”; however, I never dreamed I would ever encounter such devastation. 

To most people a miscarriage is something to move on from – it isn’t significant to even cause a blip on the radar screen of life.  In some instances it almost feels like there is a hint of shame associated with losing  a baby.  And yes, I said baby because that is what it was.

I wasn’t supposed to be able to get pregnant on my own….not to mention I was taking birth control pills.  Surely, my infertile body was not capable of getting pregnant without the aid of some kind of foreign sonogram wand exploring the inside of my body, a handful of pills or countless doctor visits.  Ha!  Imagine my surprise when I returned home from a cruise and peed on a stick.  It was a hunch – I had been tired and seasick and just felt off.  It was a long shot, a ridiculous notion that soon became a terrifying reality.  See my husband didn’t want any more children.  He was perfectly content with our 2 boys…..I was happy but my heart longed for another baby.  He hadn’t totally stonewalled me but another baby certainly wasn’t in the forefront of our mind yet here I was – hands shaking, terrified of how I would break the news.

In hindsight, I laugh at my naivety.  My husband took it all in stride and much to my surprise, he was excited.  I immediately made an appointment with an OB for the next day.  I learned that next day that I was a little over 6 weeks pregnant – I saw the flicker of a tiny heartbeat on the screen and I knew that this life was meant to be.  A week later I began spotting – I called my doctor and was told it probably wasn’t a problem but to come in.  The found a subchronic hematoma (a blood clot if you will) around the baby – my body would absorb it, take it easy, bed rest, etc. etc.  

I drove home that evening with a sinking feeling…..almost like God was preparing me.  I laid in bed all weekend and countless times I placed my hand on my stomach and prayed for the life I was carrying.  I bartered with God, begged, pleaded and cried.  As the bleeding got worse I became less and less optimistic.  By the time Monday I had rolled around I was convinced it was over. 

I made a deal with God that if this baby was meant to survive that I would see a heartbeat Monday afternoon at the doctor’s office.  I remember seeing a billboard that flashed “For I know the plans I have for you”.  For the first time in days I felt positive.  At the doctor’s office, the sonogram tech pointed out the flutter of a steady heartbeat.  I let out a sigh of relief…….almost as if I had been holding my breath for days.  I called my family and we rejoiced – now I was certain that everything was fine. 

The next day (Tuesday) I remember getting out of bed and making my way to the couch.  I watched William play in the floor and my back started to hurt.  I assumed it was a product of too much lying around.  At lunch time I got up to take a shower and realized that something was very wrong.  I will spare you the details but as my husband rushed me to the doctor’s office and the contractions rolled through my body, the tears came.  I cried for what felt like hours – I don’t remember much about that appointment other than my doctor crying with us.  A room that had at one time brought us so much hope and joy now brought us fear and doubt.   I couldn’t figure out why God would do this – what did He hope to gain out of this tragedy.  What was my suffering supposed to bring about?  Was I not thankful enough for my children, was I being punished……what did I do to deserve this? 

I’ve asked myself that question a million times.  I know that God’s timing is perfect but I would be lying if I said there aren’t times that I just want to shake my fist and say WHY??!  Infertility, miscarriage, heartache, sorrow…..what was the point of all of it?  I still don’t know, I can’t answer that question for myself or anyone else.  I remember in the days after, putting on a brave face for my friends and family.  Convincing everyone around me that I was fine all the while, letting this loss eat away at my faith.  I felt betrayed, hurt, broken.   I’ve thought back to that billboard over and over – I have to cling to the promise that He knows the plans for my life.  That He is the one who writes the story. 

I’m not exactly sure why I typed this all out – I guess it is because no one ever talks about the raw, gory details of what it is like to suffer a loss like this.  We gloss over it and put on a brave face because that is what is expected.  It is almost like a miscarriage is its own scarlet letter.  It makes me sad to think that I don’t celebrate that life the way I should because I’m afraid of the judgment of others.  I’m afraid of offending someone or drudging up past hurts if I mention the “M” word. 

There isn’t a good way to end this…..it is a complicated, messy post.  What I will tell you is that even after this tragedy - even after and during my dwindling faith - God saw fit to bless us with the cutest red headed girl in all the world.  It was a broken road to get to her and I'm not so sure that I'm at the place where I can smile at the thought of the journey we had to go on but I can say that my girl has certainly helped dry any tears I shed. 

To all my fellow parents......

Dear Parent,

I see you staring, passing judgment, calling my 3 year old a brat in your head, wondering why her parents don’t discipline her.  Rolling your eyes as she screams, the shock and horror as she tells me she hates me.  Admittedly, before facing this problem in my own home, I would have done the same thing.  I’m now ashamed of that……it makes my face burn in embarrassment.  To think I would have heaped mounds of judgment on the head of some frazzled mom who is already facing such a tear filled challenge  makes me want to hide in a corner and weep. 

 I have a new empathy for parents who go to head to head with the medical community.  Who fight and advocate for their children.  Who refuse to take a static answer because, frankly, the doctors have no idea what is wrong with their kid.  I have compassion for moms and dads who endure the scorn of family and friends who think they are over-reacting.  Those parents who sit in the waiting room at a hospital – waiting to see what answers a ridiculously expensive medical test will give them.  As they sit waiting they feel guilt for worrying about the medical bills that they know will be rolling in…..guilt for potentially financing the future of their other children to “cure” this one.  Wringing their hands in worry, tears forming in the corners of their eyes, pretending to be strong, knowing that no one understands their fear and frustration. 

I’m the mom who tiptoes around her once cheery child.  A  little girl born with red curls and dimples….ivory skin and a rosebud mouth.  The little girl who has and still does make my heart overflow with joy.  Her daddy’s princess, her Nana’s rotten, her mommy’s sweetpea……she is fierce and strong willed and stubborn but what some people don’t realize is that she is also compassionate and timid and gentle.  People don’t see those things in her as much anymore because those qualities are crowded out by fits of rage, sleepless nights and hurt filled words.  Most days I see my sweet ballerina girl….bubbly, beautiful, happy but there is always something brewing right beneath the surface.  We tiptoe around, praying that we make it through the evening and the night without a “fit”.  I watch the pain in her daddy’s eyes as she refuses to let him hold her or interact with her.  I know the pain in my own heart as I watch her stare off in to space……almost like she is absent from this beautiful life that we all share together.  Our family feels splintered…..with jagged edges threatening to slice us in two at every turn.  We spend more and more time trying to avoid a meltdown and less and less time enjoying each other.  Exhaustion has set in…..the fear of taking her too many places makes us feel like prisoners at times…..the fear that comes when we think about the rest of our lives being this way is overwhelming to say the least.

 What is a “fit”, you ask.  It is an hour of screaming, irrational ranting, throwing things, hitting, hurtful words, fear in my daughter’s eyes but refusing to let me touch her or comfort her.  Last night she woke up screaming “santa”…..I didn’t get to her fast enough.  I was tired and had taken medicine for a headache…..I was too asleep to hear her first whimpers and by the time I got to her it was too late.  She was raging…..angry…..scared.   She told me she hated me over and over again……..spewing hurtful words at me like lava from an erupting volcano.  She demanded that I leave her room but as I turned to go she pleaded with me to stay.  I walked back in the room and she cowered in the corner like a scared puppy.  She barricaded us in her room……it was complete darkness……she screamed “I’m so tired” over and over again yet still would not let me touch her.  Again she screamed for the TV on and at the same time ordered me out of her room……I turned the TV on and headed for the door.  She begged me to stay and turn the TV off.  We played out this scenario over and over until I had to walk out.  I was so tired and frustrated and scared………I had the exact same emotions that my screaming daughter did.  I listened to her cries, begging me to come back, begging me to hold her, to comfort her, to chase away these proverbial demons………..I walked back in the room knowing there was nothing I could do.  She wasn’t going to let me help her……..I had to wait until the “fit” had run its course.

When she finally calmed down and I was able to lay down with her, I covered her tiny, frail body with my own.  Willing her to feel safe and loved.  She turned her face towards me, tears streaming down her cheeks and said “I’m sorry I’m so mean to you…..I don’t really hate you”.   We both laid there in the dark on her purple polka dot sheets and we cried.  I cried for my tiny ballerina dancer who for whatever reason is so tormented……I cried because I feel like I’m failing her……I cried because I know that this isn’t just her being 3…..I cried because no one understands the depth of despair that this kind of thing can push you to…..I cried because I want to rewind to December when she was okay and we weren’t searching for answers…….I cried because there doesn’t seem to be an answer and I cried because I know that so many people have labeled my sweet, beautiful, compassionate girl as a spoiled, defiant brat who just needs a good hard spanking. 

I hate the judgmental stares of other parents but more than that, I hate that I can’t fix whatever is broken in my little girl.  I hate that I’m not sure if I can survive another 6 months like this.  I hate that I’m afraid she may never be “normal” again.  So many things have changed over the last 6 weeks…..every day is a toss-up as to how it will turn out……every outing brings feelings of anxiety……every stare and well intentioned suggestion brings feelings of failure.  I know we will make it…..whatever comes…..whatever this life brings I will never quit advocating for my child.  I will never give up the fight…..I will never quit trying to hold her when cries out for me.  I pray that I always see my tiny, ballerina girl………that my heart doesn’t become hardened by the hateful words and the sleepless nights.  She needs someone to love her unconditionally…….to always see the good in her…….to remember who she really is regardless of how she is behaving. 

 I’m not writing this asking for pity or suggestions or advice.  I’m sending this out into the universe because people don’t get it – they don’t understand – they don’t want to understand what it may be like to live with a child who doesn’t fit into society’s neat little box.  Maybe the next time you offer up your opinion you should stop yourself and instead offer a hug or a shoulder to cry on.  Instead of advice……..offer a prayer…….a plea before the throne that this child comes through this challenge and that his or her parents have the strength to walk this road.   We should always remember that kids don’t come with instruction manuals……parenting is hard work and none of us know what another parent truly goes through in the middle of the night.  Your road is not mine and mine is not yours……..I need your love not your judgment……….I need your compassion not your criticism……..I need your prayers not your persecution.

So I’ve been MIA for a week now……sorry for the absence but trust me, you didn’t want to hear from me. I’ve been battling some kind of funky, bad mood for almost a week. You know the kind that leaves you feeling mediocre at everything and makes you just want to throw in the towel?? Today I seem to be in a better place so I figured it was time to give you an update since I’m done with the Cleanse phase of my 24 Day Challenge. So…..drumroll please……I lost a pound. Yep, 1 stinky pound. I’ve been frustrated and bummed over the last week because the scale keeps moving up and down. I’ve felt like my clothes were looser but the scale isn’t moving, so what gives??? Well today I measured and…….are you ready……huh, huh?? I don’t know why I’m teasing, it’s not like anyone is reading this anyway. I lost 9 inches!!!! NINE….9…..freaking 9 inches! I was so excited to see that number after taking my measurements. It means all the work is paying off just not how I’m used to seeing it. I’ve lost 3.5 inches off my waist in 10, yes TEN, days! Proof that the scale shouldn’t be the end all, be all of weight loss progress.


I’m not going to tell you it was easy because this last week I’ve really been struggling with my emotions (and I think some hormone stuff too) so it has been a constant struggle to stay away from comfort food, i.e., chocolate. I also had some stomach problems for a couple of days which made me want to eat….I’m a weirdo and want to eat when my stomach hurts cause that makes it all better, right?? But hey, I made it to the other side of the cleanse with no real battle wounds and that is a victory in itself!

Something I will say is that Advocare promises to help you get into healthy eating habits (and it totally does that). You will read a lot of testimonials about people feeling amazing after taking Advocare. I have no doubt they feel amazing and the Spark is definitely a drink that will put pep in your step but I think most of the energy and overall feeling of wellness comes from eating clean. I’m not saying that Advocare supplements don’t work or are not worth the money because I LOVE them and wholeheartedly believe in them. What I am saying is that the cost can scare some people off. It seems like an investment and some people don’t have money to invest in their health because they have to ummm, feed their kids! If you can afford Advocare I say do it….you won’t be sorry and really the supplements/challenge/spark aren’t horribly expensive when you factor in the lifestyle changes you will make (lack of eating out, no more sodas, etc.); however, you CAN take control of your weight, your health, your fitness level with no help from Advocare. I believe Advocare helps lighten the load (I truly don’t crave diet sodas anymore and that is the one thing I refused to give up – even after I started eating clean) but it isn’t absolutely necessary to get where you want to be. What is necessary……determination, a plan, a little will power and a lot of hardwork! I’m not where I want to be but I’m a heck of a lot closer than I was 18 months ago. The process has been slow and frustrating and hard and amazing and rewarding all at the same time. I’m proud of myself and how far I’ve come. I still suck at running (running a race is on my bucket list) and I still can’t do more than 10 tricep dips at a time and my bat wings (aka underarm skin) would still double as a parachute should I ever be pushed out of a plane but I’m getting there. I’m making good choices one bite at a time. I’m pushing myself and believing in myself and forgiving myself and learning to be proud of me again. This time around has definitely been a marathon….parts of me wants to just be done but I know I have to pace myself if I want to be healthy rather than skinny.

So I have 14 more days…..started my morning with the chocolate meal replacement shake and all I can say is YUMMY! Way better than those crappy fiber shakes I’ve had to drink over the last week and a half. I’m excited again and anxious to see where I end up in 2 weeks. And I’m anxious to share it with you. Whether it helps to answer some questions about Advocare or it motivates you to start your own journey…..I hope it inspires you in some way to get healthy!

I will leave you with a “before” picture. This was the night before I delivered Abigail (almost 2.5 years ago). The “after” picture will be in my next post!

Day 4.....More Puking!

Day 4 and boy am I thankful for my Spark! 2 more people in our house have been hit by the stomach bug……combine that with year end at work and to say I’m tired would be an understatement. I will say that I’m amazed I haven’t come down with the bug. Will and I shared a bottle of water on Monday and honestly there isn’t ever a day where one of my kids isn’t blowing snot on me. I really contribute my wellness (is that a word I can use here??) to eating right and Advocare. If you do any research at all you will find that sugar actually tears down your immune system. I gave up sugar over 2 months ago and I haven’t been sick once! That coupled with some good quality Advocare vitamins has really made a difference…..at least I think so.

So Day 4…..ummmm, not a lot going on today. Thankfully I did not have to drink a fiber shake this morning……I really think those things may be the reason that there “isn’t much going on” if you catch my drift. I’m sore from some heavy weights on Tuesday night but I’m planning to do some light cardio tonight. Whoever says they like the burn has clearly never been so sore they can’t get up off the toilet. OMG….I thought I was going to have to sleep there last night because I seriously couldn’t get my legs to move!

Sorry there isn’t more exciting stuff going on…..I wish I had some kind of amazing review for you but I’m only on day 4. I’m trying to stay motivated (I think I really built this challenge up in my head) and keep plugging along. I keep reminding myself that I’ve come a long way and that I feel great….those two things should be the most important part of any diet/healthy lifestyle anyway. So here is to kicking butt in the gym tonight and moving on to Day 5!!

Just a quick picture of my girl…..she reminds me every day why I work so hard to be healthy!

Day 3 of The 24 Day Challenge

I promised an update on the 24 day challenge and I’m sorry it is just now happening. My little guy got struck with a stomach bug so this mommy has been busy, busy, busy! Now I’m hoping that the rest of the family stays well because I’m really not ready to spend the next 2 weeks mopping up puke! So…..I’m on day 3 of the 24 day challenge….thankfully after this morning I get a few days off from the fiber drink. YUCK! Actually it doesn’t taste horrible but it gives me incredible heartburn. I’m not sure if anyone experiences this but I haven’t had heartburn like this since I was pregnant. I’ve been eating pepcid like candy so I’m hoping they are calorie free! Since I’m 3 days in let me list the pros and cons so far. Pros: I feel great…..like really clear and motivated I’ve had no cravings for sugar….in fact I tried to drink a Diet Dr. Pepper yesterday and it tasted awful. I won’t be doing that again! My workouts seem to be more intense….this is a great thing in my book My skin seems to be glowing I feel like I’m shrinking…..this could all be in my head but hey I’m not sad about feeling smaller I have TONS of energy! Cons: This fiber drink gives me heartburn…..oh wow! I’m worried that I won’t do as well as others because I am not eating all the meals/snacks. I eat when I’m hungry…..took me a long time to get here and I’m not going to make myself eat because a book says I should The program is a little intimidating….there are a lot of pills but I’m sure once I get in the routine it will be a piece of cake! So that is where I’m at today…..day 3. Oh and before I forget (or maybe I just waited this long on purpose) my official starting weight was 199. Ughhhh, that is so hard to admit but I’ve come a long way and I’m proud of my hard work. I’m also not beating myself up about gaining weight in the first place….those pounds were worth it and I would gain 300 pounds if it was necessary to get my babies. Okay back to work for me……(((HUGS)))

I'll Start On Monday!

I've been missing in action for like oh the last 4 years! Part of the reason for that is plain and simple.....I'm crazy busy. Going from 1, self sufficient kid to 2 toddlers and 1 teenager has rocked my world. Rocked in a good way but rocked nonetheless! The second reason for my absence has been my frustration with my weight. I gained 20 pounds (thank you fertility drugs) before getting pregnant, 75 pounds with Will's pregnancy and 30 pounds with Abby's. Of course I didn't lose any weight during those back to back pregnancies.....by the time I stopped nursing it was the holidays and then a miscarriage and then BAM a pregnancy!! So I had put on 125 pounds and I was miserable to say the least. Finally in September of 2011 I decided that I needed to get my crap together......like for realz!! I started dieting....kind of. I made little changes along the way and, while it wasn't a fast weight loss, the scale did continue to trend downward. To date, I'm down almost 80 pounds! I'm proud of that....I'm still not thrilled with where I'm at but I'm in Onderland again and I am working to be healthy. I want my body to be healthy and my mentality towards food to be healthy. This isn't just about me fitting in to a pair of skinny jeans......it is about being able to watch my kids grow up and teaching them what a healthy lifestyle looks like. Those are my goals now. Of course a cute pair of skinny jeans would be a nice bonus! I've been eating clean for a couple of months and I feel great but I've decided that I need to step up my game. I've decided to try the 24 day challenge by Advocare. I know, I know....I was the biggest skeptic but it has a 100% money back guarantee so I figured the only thing I had to lose was weight. Our challenge starts Monday and I'm going to try to use the blog as an accountability tool. I would also like to be able to go back and see my progress. Maybe I can also encourage someone along the way.....who knows?? So on Monday I'll be posting my stats.....oh dear Lord, I've never done that before and frankly, the thought makes me want to puke. But i figure if I'm going to be accountable I need to own the number...regardless of the humiliation that may occur after I post them. So stay tuned for my results. I'm planning to be brutally honest and hopefully offer a fair, unbiased opinion of the products and the challenge. I have hesitated for so long on doing this challenge but this time it just feels right....I'm excited and ready to bust through a plateau or 2!!

Letters to my children.....

Geez, I have a billion things I could type out here and I'm trying to sort them all out so bear/bare (????) with me. This post and the others to come will probably be moved to a seperate space in the interenet universe but for now, I'm putting it here. Here goes: To my amazing children: Sometimes in life you have a day that starts like any other day but ends with such a profound sense of sadness that you can barely breathe. A day that makes you stop and question everything about the universe. A day that makes you realize your own mortality......makes you wonder, "what will I leave behind for my children should I go before they can ever really know me?". Well I had one of those days today.....actually a few days ago. Right now you are 15, 3 & 1, respectively. Hopefully, I will live to see my great grandchildren at your age but seeing as how we are not promised tomorrow, I wanted to just tell you my story. I wanted you to know who I am.....I'm your mom and without a doubt that is the most important "thing" I will ever be but there is so much more than that. I don't know that you can ever really convey, on paper, who you truly are but I want to try. First, as I said before, I'm your mother. My deepest dream was fulfilled the minute that you were placed in my arms.....actually the minute I heard "you're pregnant". My life was forever changed and a balm was poured in to my soul that soothed every hurt that I harbored.....every rough and rocky road seemed a distant memory. That is and will always be my most important title I have. Even on days when I scream, "I swear I'm going to change my name if you say it one more time".....yeah, even on those days I know how blessed I am to be a mom, specifically your mom. I'm also a lover....you may not believe this because I've probably used the paddle on your hiney more than once but I really am. I love deep and if I love you, I love you. My emotions run high and most of the time I'm not afraid of showing them. I cry if I'm hurt or angry or sad. Sometimes I do more than cry, sometimes I sob (or ugly cry as we girls like to call it) but I'm not afraid to do that in front of people or by myself. Most people would say that I wear my heart on my sleeve and that isn't far from the truth. I know that loving comes with risks but I don't want to live my life without giving or receiving love. What kind of life would that be? Intense sadness is part of having amazing joy.....the two go hand in hand during this life. To feel the depths of such great joy I believe that you have to feel the lows of heart breaking sorrow. Those emotions are threads that run through the tapestry of our life.......creating the fabric of who we are and propelling us forward to discover the future that is laid out before us. Never be afraid to cry.....the saying "boys don't cry" is baloney. Some of the most tender moments I've ever shared or witnessed involved tears being shed by one of the men in my life. Whether they are joy or sorrow filled......tears have a language that connects hearts and souls. I guess that is enough for today. More than anything in this whole world you have to know I love you. That I am your biggest fan...that no matter where you go or what you do, somebody will ALWAYS love you....that someone is me. I love you to the moon and back, Mom

Goals for now.....

Lately I have become involved in a plethora of different hobbies and while I love having so many things that interest me, I hate the feeling of never fully commiting to one thing. I am left feeling completely disorganized and anxious about EVERY SINGLE THING I want to accomplish. So I thought it would be productive to write it down here.....at least start writing it down. So here goes.

1. Learn to run.......while I may not enjoy running I would at least like to give it a shot. This is somthing I have been putting more and more thought in to. Now I need to quit thinking about it and just do it.

2. Learn to take great pictures and how to edit them.....I LOVE taking pictures of my kids and having a nice camera was always a dream of mine. Well, my dad bought me a dslr for Christmas and while I have played with it, I'm having trouble finding time to really get my hands dirty. I'm also having trouble getting my kids to sit still for more than 10 seconds at a time. I'm not sure how to fix that one??!

3. Learn to applique.....I'm doing well with sewing (for the most party) so I really would like to take on a few applique projects and learn to do that. I'm an Etsy junkie so anything I can create at home is bound to save me some money!

4. Give more.......more money, more time, more of me. And not just to those in need but also to my kids and my family.

5. Cultivate a better relationship with my husband.....we are fine most days but I want more than fine. I'm not expecting unbridled passion every time I see him but after 7 years and 2 toddlers we could definitely use some "us" time. I LOVE being a mom but I think one of the most important things I can give my kids is a good marriage between their mom and dad.

Okay so those are just a few.......I have a million little things like planting flowers, reading more, planning fun outings for the kids but the things above are the things that keep me up at night. So now that I have a list how do I start incorporating these things without making myself nuts??!! Awwww, the million dollar question!

Back to Phase 1

So I get an update every week about how many visits my blog gets. This weekly email motivates me to blog because when I actually see that people visit my little corner of the internet I feel extreme guilt for not giving them something to read. With that being said, I'm sorry for my sloth like blogging this past week. It's been a tough one for a lot of reasons but mostly becuase for about 6 days I just wansn't feeling the love. Not the love for blogging but the love period. I was in a funk and as I told my friend, "I felt like my spirit had been broken". I'm so glad that my blues have passed and I'm able to dust off my dancing shoes.........don't worry, I'm not literally dancing!

I'm back on phase 1 of the 17 Day Diet.......I just don't do well with carbs. I'm really hoping that at some point I can find my moderation button and begin using it but right now, I just can't seem to find a good middle ground. I'm either hard core or I'm so lazy it isn't funny. For now I need to work on begin commited and hard core. But man I miss sugar and chocolate and rice........lucky for me the cravings usually pass after a few days and I get to where I don't even think about that stuff. I'm just ready to be there, like NOW!

I'm anxious for spring so I can start walking with the babies.........I say babies but really they are toddlers who will probably keep me running after them on our walk. I'm envisioning me pulling a wagon with 55 pounds worth of baby in it. I probably should start working out now so I can be prepared for those walks!!

Okay, I'm sorry I'm boring but I'm super busy at work and just can't seem to focus. Have a great day and I plan to be back more often this week.

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day from Abby Jewel!!

Sloppy Steph

Ughhhh, I hate writers block! I would love to put something witty or moving or thought provoking down on this proverbial paper but truth be told, I'm beat. Abby was diagnosed with pneumonia on Sunday so my nights have been filled with a coughing, crying toddler. She is better now but man I hate when my babies get sick. Couple all of that with my sudden urge to become domesticated, ie, sewing and pinterest projects, and you have one very tired momma on your hands.

I'm holding steady on the weight loss.........I need to get my butt in gear. The last two weeks haven't been very productive but of course I haven't been working the plan like I know to. Sure, I'm eating healthy for the most part but it's occassional splurges that kill it for me. Like the trip to have chinese food on Saturday..........now I'm not sad about that trip (the food was delicious) but I'm sad about how I couldn't tighten my belt immediately following that dining experience. See I'm an all or nothing kind of girl. I'm either hard core or I'm sloppy..........I don't have an in between button which is probably why I battle my weight.

So my eating has been sloppy. Not bad but not good.....a handful of goldfish here, a vanilla wafer there, nothing overly awful but enough to make the scale stagnant. So I'm trying to get my groove back........I really want to lose another 35 pounds before our family reunion in June. That 35 pounds will still leave me with 40 to lose but it will also put me at 75 lost.

This is a lifestyle, this is a lifestyle, this is a lifestyle..........I keep telling myself that in hopes that one day it will sink in!!

Beautiful Broken Blessings

This time a couple of years ago I was in the throws of a miscarriage. I was laying in bed trying to entertain a 13 month old toddler and praying to God to save my baby. This time two years ago I had no idea how my innocence would be stripped away. I naively thought that surely God would not thrust me in to the baby loss category after already putting me through the every doctor in America has shoved his hand up there infertility club initiation. Surely, I would not, after laying here for hours pleading with God, still lose this baby. Two years ago I had no idea how strong I could be or how fragile life really was. Two years ago I had no idea how you could feel such deep devastation and complete gratitude at the same time.

On February 9th, two years ago, I realized all those things. Life turned upside down for me that day……..there are few moments that I will ever forget about that afternoon just because they have been burned in to my heart. I’m not angry and never really have been. I don’t understand but I’m also not angry. I have always maintained the position that “how could I possibly be angry at a God who gave me William”.

I will admit that there are days that I cry…….more because I don’t understand. Usually the tears come at the end of an already emotionally charged day and truth be told, I let them fall. I let myself feel that hurt, that tiny sense of betrayal. I let the questions flow and wonder how things would have been different.

Different………hmmmmm??? Two years ago I never imagined that I would wake up to this beautiful ray of sunshine who looks like her grandmother and makes her momma’s heart smile.



This beautiful red headed girl with beautiful, red headed curls whose name means “Father’s Joy” and who lives up to that name every single day. This bouncing, bubbly, baby girl who has brought much peace into my battered heart. Who has fulfilled my dreams of painting toe nails and playing baby dolls. Her presence does not make me miss my 2nd child any less………..and yes, I say 2nd child because after seeing your baby’s beating heart 5 times via ultrasound, you kind of feel like that is your child………..but it sure does remind me of the goodness of God. It reminds me that He has great plans for us and they are plans for hope and a future. Those are the things I try to remember as I journey down this path………this week brings back bitter memories but also brings forth new hope. I’m trying to rest in the hope part.

Spaghetti Dinner

Just some pics of the family and their complete, over the moon excitement for spaghetti. My gosh you would think I don't ever feed them!! My husband literally skipped around the kitchen when I told him that he could have pasta.......yes, he is a carbaholic for sure!!







You may be wondering where Will was during all of the carb festivities.....he was busy riding his tricycle through the kitchen at an alarming speed! At least he had on clothes this time!!

The Diet

Got on the scale this morning and thanks to a nasty cold/flu bug and lots of dieting, I'm down 40 pounds since September 1st. I wish I could say that I was done but I'm nowhere near done. What I am is healthier, 2 sizes smaller and a lot more confident.

In case you are wondering what I'm doing on the diet front, we (the adults in my home) are doing the 17 Day Diet. While I haven't seen the amazing results that a lot of people boast about I have seen steady weight loss and overall better eating. The better eating and healthy part was what I was really after so I feel like this diet is a win for us. We are eating a lot less processed food and a lot less red meat. I was never a huge meat eater anyway but my husband and father in law were. They also had a sick love affair with Hamburger Helper and mac & cheese. This diet has given us a clean slate and really I'm not hearing many complaints out of those two.

The next step is integrating some exercise in to our lives which may prove to be a difficult task. I don't usually get home until almost 7:00 p.m. and my kids are normally in bed by 8:00 p.m. I'm sorry but I refuse to waste that precious time with them..........that means I'm going to have to find another way to get some activity in. I've thought about dvd's, treadmills, late night visits to the gym and honestly, none of it sounds very appealing right now. I'm just not super motivated to get it done. So maybe my next step should be finding my motivation??!!

Anyway, I'm proud of myself and the guys in my life. We are all working hard to make sure that we are around for a long time. I've done this before and I can do it again.........I have extra incentive now though because I want to make sure that I'm there for my grandkids!

Wooden Teasets

As I peruse the internet I often come across bloggers whose pictures display this perfect balance of hip and June Cleaver. These blogs always leave me scratching my head while tagging their page so I can return day after day and feel like a loser mom. Their daughters are having tea parties with little wooden tea sets rather than the cheap plastic ones from China……..their homes are beautiful shades of gray and orange……..a color combination that I love but would never be daring enough to attempt. They have recreated goodwill finds into original pieces of art that they have displayed all over their magazine worthy home. They shop at places like Anthropologie and Crate & Barrel. Their jewelry always coordinates with their super, cute and trendy wedge heels. Their children are dressed in a plethora of modern attire straight from sewing machines off Etsy or maybe, just maybe these cute and trendy June Cleaver’s make these wares themselves with wool from their organic goats. Of course they also find ways to convince their children to eat humus, quinoa, homemade yogurt and goat butter………..they baby wear, cloth diaper, have mismatched furniture that looks like it is supposed to be that way and they take incredible pictures of their incredible lives!!

I just have one question for all you trendy mom bloggers………how is it possible that you have time to do all of this?? Maybe your kids don’t cry, or puke, or poop their pants, or spray paint the walls with black spray paint??? Maybe you have brooms that move themselves, washing machines that do the laundry automatically and toilets that manage to clean up the pee streaks running down them, with little to no help from you?? I know this sounds like a jealous rant but I’m not really jealous……….okay, maybe I am just a teensy bit but I’m really intrigued. Did this cool, crunchy aura invade your body when you gave birth or has it always been there??

Let me give you a peek into my life. The furniture all matches……except for the spots where the cats have laid and covered my gold/taupe couches in grey hair. My floors usually have crap all over them………sometimes it’s literal crap but for the most part it is legos, pop tart crumbs, spaghetti noodles, fruit loops, some milk stains and hot wheels………thank God for hardwood. I’m not sure what would happen if I had carpet to contend with?? Speaking of pop tarts and spaghetti – there is a good look in to my kid’s diet. There is no trendy jewelry because I fear my children would strangle me with a strand of beads and wedge heels, uh no. A pair of comfy ballet flats is what I live in. My house is overrun with toys…….most of them from China and while I’m learning to sew, the last dress I made for Abby almost cut off the blood circulation to her arms because somehow I managed to make the arm holes to small!! I hate modge podge, hot glue guns, beads and puffy paint……….I work with these items when necessary but in my humble opinion, mixing 2 toddlers, 1 frazzled mom and crafting supplies is just a bad idea. I have 500 pictures on my camera that need to be reviewed and either deleted or downloaded, a stack of laundry that J U S T N E V E R L E A V E S and what is that stuff growing in the refrigerator.
Guys, I’m not lazy and I’m not a slob but sometimes it is hard to tell that by the condition of my house/life.

Some days I just sit the kids in the floor, in front of the tv with a pb&j (I know, go ahead and report me to CPS) just so I can have 5 minutes of peace. This teenager and 2 toddlers thing is hard work and I’m just constantly amazed at these parents who are able to juggle it all. Maybe it is because I work outside of the home?? Maybe it’s because I’m not organized enough?? Maybe I’m too anal, too lazy, too something. What I’m NOT is too trendy, too organized, too patient or too crunchy. So if you are one of these mom’s that I envy so, please fill me in on your tricks…..pretty please………..do it for the children!!

Beautiful World

I need to do a quick mind dump real quick………too much stuff in my brain!!
First, I’ve lost 40 pounds since September 1st……….I have about 80 to so don’t start shouting hallelujahs yet. And before anyone starts judging me for gaining that much weight back…….yeah, I don’t care what you think……….every one of those pounds was worth it to get my babies so I have no regrets! I’m plugging along, eating healthy, planning meals, prepping food on the weekends until my fingers bleed and basically just trying to add some good healthy years to my life for the little people that helped me put this weight back on. No longer consumed with being a size 2 or buying designer clothes is proving to make this journey more enjoyable. Well as enjoyable as drinking liters of water and eating boatloads of carrots can be. This time it is different…..I’m not miserable, I’m not thrilled either but more importantly, I’m not miserable. I’m not freaking out if I slip up and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life potentially putting my children into therapy because mommy has an eating disorder. I’m going to do the best I can and at some point, maybe not next month, but at some point I will be where I want to be. I can give you the low down on the diet in my next post……..see I’m just not consumed with it anymore.

Speaking of kids……….they are beautiful, amazing, more than I could ever deserve. They are also exhausting, inquisitive, angry toddlers a lot of the time. I have some CUH-RAZY stories to share about William that include black spray paint……yeah, maybe next time. They bring joy to the very core of my being and there are times, after the kids have long been in bed, that I have to resist the urge to go wake them up to cuddle. Funny how in the thick of things we can’t seem to find that irresistible urge to snuggle them………like at 4:00 in the afternoon when they want you to play play-doh and watch Dora and all you want to do is get some kind of dinner in the oven so you won’t all starve to death. Those times when you remind your 3 year old that mommy wasn’t created just to entertain him only to have him look at you like you have 2 heads and again ask, “mommy, play play-doh with me?”. Those are the moments that make up my life. Like I’m constantly in a hamster wheel with no way to exit………like a theme park ride that goes on and on and won’t stop long enough to let me stumble out the right side of the car so I can puke in a trash can instead of on my co-rider!

This year I’m trying hard to remember who I am……..why I am…….where I want to be. I’m a mommy, wife, friend, sister, coworker……..yeah, that is who I am but not really “who I am”. I want to love bigger this year, give more. More of myself, my time, my money, my compassion and not just to people who need it but to the people that I love. I want to bake cookies and create art projects. I want to take thousands of pictures (with my new camera)…….I want to take impromptu, silly pictures of toddler boys in super hero capes and perfect princesses playing dress up. I want to LIVE this life I’ve been given. I want to remember every single detail, every smell, every sight, every sound. Sometimes I want that so much that it almost moves me to tears…..how can I do that. How can I be the grounded, methodical, planner that I am and still be free to experience all of the joys that come with messy handprints, lazy Saturdays and camp outs in the backyard. I’m sure we all have this quandaries………if I ever come across the answer, I’ll let you know. For now, I’ll leave with you a couple of reasons why I press for the answer.

Who??

There are a lot of things that I want to teach my children over the next few “moldable” years. One of those things is compassion and giving. This holiday season has brought about many tears for me. Partly because of the loss our family suffered when Rich’s mom died and partly because of the loss that so many families suffer through every day. When I think of children waking up on Christmas morning to no gifts it breaks my heart. Gifts are not the reason for Christmas but as a parent I can only imagine the heartache I would feel in not being able to give my children the magic of Christmas morning. Some of these families can’t even provide for their children’s most basic needs let alone offer them stockings filled by Santa and brightly wrapped gifts under the tree.

If you have never been to a women and children’s shelter then you have lived a sheltered life. I have visited those places and even volunteered in a few. Some of the women are there because of bad choices and some of them are their because of bad circumstances. Regardless of how they got there, it isn’t our place to pass judgment. I thought this morning about how Christians (me included) are quick to volunteer in the church nursery, participate in various study groups and show up for the church work day. We walk away feeling smug as though we are truly “serving” as Jesus called us to serve. We never think about the scriptures that tell us to care for the widows and orphans. We forget about the messy, dingy, dark parts of service. We choose to not think about those that are homeless or struggling. Those places, those things infringe on our comfort and leave a lasting impression that brings about a certain level of sorrow.

Oh yes, we will pick an angel off an angel tree and gladly buy a small toy for our designated child. We will donate food to our church food pantry and discard an unpopular toy in to the toys for tots bin but have we really thought about what it means to truly “give”. I’m talking about giving when it isn’t comfortable and sometimes even when it hurts. I’m talking about laying aside our own wants to supply someone else’s needs. What are we teaching our own children? We are teaching them that Santa brings lots of gifts and that Christmas is a time to open up multiple packages as fast as possible giving little thought to the actual gift or the giver. In some cases, we teach them that Jesus is the reason for the season but are we REALLY showing them the love of Christ?

In this world of instant gratification, astronomical credit card debt and electronic gadgets, have we ever stopped to consider what our actions truly say. I work around people every day that have money. I’m talking about lots of money. Having money doesn’t make you a bad person but when I think about the amount of money that is wasted on dining out, fancy wine, sports cars, clothes, etc. I just have to wonder when our priorities shifted so drastically. I’m not pointing fingers at anyone because; although, I do not own a fancy sports car and don’t drink fine wine, I do shop A LOT for my children. My kids have clothes and shoes shoved in every drawer and closet of our home. Oh and the toys…….our house is literally busting at the seams with toys. My children have no concept of want……….most of their desires are met by either their parents or their grandparents. They don’t know what it is to wear shoes with holes in them or to be told “I’m sorry we can’t afford that”. Those things are foreign to them and I pray that we never have to utter those words to them. But some people do have those struggles and maybe instead of my children always enjoying the bounty of God’s blessings……..maybe they should get to be one of those blessings?

I want my children to grow up with tender hearts and open hands. I want them to always be willing to go do the dirty work. To give, to love, to offer up whatever they can without passing judgment on those they are giving to. I have not always been great at these things but God isn’t finished with me. I consider myself to be a compassionate person – I would give you the shirt off my back and some would even call me naïve but that doesn’t mean that I always give without a smidge of smugness or a hint of judgment. That I never wonder why this person is in the situation they are in – what mistake they made to land themselves in this predicament. Those feelings and judgments negate my giving……..they make me as bad as the person who has everything and refuses to give. Those crevices and cracks are what God is working on in me.

The question I leave you with is this………..where are you on this road? Have you thought about what we are teaching our next generation, our children. As you watch your children experience the awe of Christmas morning, think about those children who will be waking up in a shelter. Those children whose lives have been devastated by drugs, abuse, alcoholism, violence, job loss, illness. Those families that are being torn apart by circumstances that seem too big. Mothers and fathers who will pray this holiday season for a miracle to keep their lights on or put food on the table. Parents who will not watch their children delight in the fact that Santa came. Children who will hope that next year Santa will find them.

WE are His hands and feet……..if WE don’t do it then who will?

A hole in my heart.....

So I’ve been needing to write for a few weeks now. Writing is cathartic for me……a way to release all of those feelings that I hold inside in my futile attempt at appearing strong. One of the reasons I haven’t written is because, a. there has been no time and b. there is no way that I could possibly put my level of grief down on paper. I don’t know that there are words in the English language that could possibly do justice to the hurt that I currently feel in my soul. What on earth could possibly cause this grief, you ask? Well on Saturday, October 1st we lost my mother in law or Grandma as she was affectionately known by just about everyone.

Anyone that knows us knows that the last 3 years, since Tracy’s (my husband’s sister) death, have been difficult. Grandma struggled with severe depression and there were days when she couldn’t get out of bed. I’m ashamed to admit that after 2 year of this I had lost a lot of my empathy for her. I was easily frustrated by her lack of concern for our home, for her inability to see joy in things, for her unwillingness to count her many blessings. Oh how easy it is to be a Judgy Judy when it isn’t you who has lost a daughter or you who is suffering. Don’t get me wrong, I loved her dearly and she was one of my closest friends but a part of me feels a lot of guilt for my attitude over the last year. See, my life was amazing. In three years I had given birth to two beautiful children, I had a good job, fantastic home, great husband and a family full of people who loved me and wanted only the best for me. While I sat high on top of my mountain of goodness I watched her become more distant and sad. Not every day was bad, in fact, a lot of days were good. She always tried to wear a smile for the kids and over the last several months she had been doing fairly well. We knew she struggled but she also made an effort to get out of bed every day.

On Friday night she and Grandpa had gone out to dinner and Bingo. Grandpa had just traded his truck in for a corvette so they decided to take it out for a spin. The night was good. They had fun and talked about the future. Grandma even mentioned that she felt like she was coming out of her fog. She told Grandpa that she planned to take Toby (the dog) for a walk the next morning. They got home around 11:30 and I could hear them laughing and joking in the kitchen as she made the coffee for the morning. I remember thinking that it sounded like the old Grandma. I drifted off to sleep while making a list of all the things I needed to accomplish the next day.

Fast forward to Saturday morning……Rich got up early, probably around 7:15 or so. The coffee had been started and several cups were missing so all seemed as it should be. I finally roused myself out of bed around 8:00 a.m. Relishing in the fact that I had been able to sleep in. That never happens around our house so I was feeling really lucky. I got up, made my way to the kitchen to get breakfast for the kiddos and saw Grandpa coming downstairs. I casually asked where Grandma was as he opened up the morning paper. He replied that she was going to walk the dog. Hmmmm, okay so hopefully today will be a good day?? I fed the kids, jumped in the shower and was getting William dressed. I had told Rich of my plans to leave Abby at home while Will and I dropped Nate off at school and then went to the craft store. Rich and Grandpa had plans to pour some concrete in the backyard for a new shed we had just bought……the weather was beautiful and fall was just starting to set in. We were all so excited for cooler weather and the holidays.

Around 9:15 or so Grandpa went upstairs to get ready for the day and realized that Nathan was occupying the bathroom that they shared. Grumbling I’m sure, Grandpa made his way to Grandma’s bathroom (Grandpa snores like a bear so he and Grandma had separate rooms) and saw her on the floor. Assuming she was looking for her cat he yelled at her to ask what she was doing. When she didn’t respond he went over to her and realized that she was gone. He immediately called to Rich and Rich called 911. I ran up the stairs to see what was going on and when I saw her, I knew. I don’t know that I will ever forget how she looked. The gray skin, the broken sunglasses……….it appears that she was getting her sunglasses and heading to get Toby out of his kennel when it happened. The medical examiner says her heart stopped and she “just died”. I’m not sure that I understand how you just die…….there is no just dying. We know she didn’t suffer……she probably never knew what happened and their assumption was she that she was gone in a matter of minutes. I think about that…….minutes. One breath you are here and the next you are gone. One second you are making plans for the future and the next your life has been cut short.

After finding her, I scooped up my babies and ran them to the neighbor’s house because I knew it was going to be a long day. I started calling family and friends for reinforcement and prepared to do one of the hardest things I have ever done. I’ll spare you the details but after 3 ½ hours our house was finally empty of medical personnel, police, fireman, neighbors, etc. In the quiet of the house, I looked around and realized that all the dreams I had built my life upon, all the “stuff” that I had acquired meant nothing at this point. My true treasures were my family, my friends and my faith. Those things would serve as the warm coat I would pull around me in the midst of death’s chilly sting. Those things would be what sustained me as I went through the motions of planning a funeral. Those things would give me the strength to tell my baby boy that his Grandma was in Heaven. Those things would push me forward every day and allow me to find a new normal for our family. Those things would also remind me what is really important in life. In spite of my grief, I am blessed beyond measure. In spite of our pain, we have been given so much more than we deserve. In spite of my anger at the thought of my children not knowing a grandmother who loved them so much, I know that we are never truly alone.