Author: notoriousmom

Why doesn’t anyone warn us that making friends in adulthood is impossibly difficult? Sure, there will be phases of life during which it can be easier. Having young kids involved in activities, PTA, school functions, and kids’ parties are all great places to shop for friends. But then your kids grow up and graduate, they move away to college, and those friendships slowly fade away as each family finds their new phase of life. It is so hard y’all.

We moved to a new suburb a little over a year ago. I have not made one single friend in this new town. Thank goodness I have a handful of lifelong friendships, but they all live in other places and have busy lives. We are down to one kid still living at home and she is in 8th grade. There weren’t many opportunities to meet people through school before COVID, but especially not now. I find it hard to believe that I am alone in this…surely there is at least one other person who is struggling to make new connections. I don’t consider myself especially shy, or unapproachable. So what the heck am I doing wrong?!? Seriously, where are all the open and honest, genuine, help you hide your Amazon mountain kind of friends??? Where are my coffee friends, something a little stronger friends, laugh, cry, or hunt someone down friends?

Being a stay-at-home mom isn’t as easy as people may think. It can be isolating, lonely, and too quiet sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, most days I have a million things I need to get done…but when you realize you don’t even have a friend to text when something is funny during the day, it makes you stop and think. My ride-or-die friends work and don’t have time for my shenanigans during the day. My husband is busy at work but tries to indulge my texts/phone calls. Don’t even get me started on the carpool line. That is 30 minutes sitting and staring at all of the cars full of friend candidates that I have no way of tapping into.

So, where do you meet friends later in life? I’m tired of feeling like a 40-Something in Middle School. I need to find my “in”. What is the secret? Is there a code word, a handshake, or a secret hangout? Please if you are also working through this tricky phase of life, let me know how you have navigated these waters. Or if you are in this with me, let me know and we can figure this out together.

As always, thanks for listening to my heart.

True story… I almost drowned. Imagine a gorgeous day in Cancun. My first time ever in the Caribbean Ocean. We had literally been in the water less than 30 minutes. We hadn’t even been in the country a full day yet. This was our first day of the vacation…we had arrived, checked into our hotel, put on our swimsuits, and hit the beach. So here I am in the crystal blue water for the first time. Now, I had lived in Southern Florida for a few years in my pre-teens, but due to my asthma I have never been what anyone would call a strong swimmer. I have survival skills, but I just don’t enjoy any activity that involves holding my breath. So I figured the Caribbean Ocean would be like the other beaches I had been to before. Well, it was a little different. I got caught in a rip tide that was sweeping me further and further out so that before long I could no longer touch the bottom. I didn’t know that when this happens you are supposed to swim or walk sideways to get out of it; instead of trying to fight it and get back to shore head-on. So now I’m in panic mode because I realize that I’m in trouble and I’m getting tired of fighting the tide. My poor boyfriend (now husband) didn’t know, at the time, that when I am panicked or in pain, I laugh hysterically; so he assumed I was playing in the waves having fun. He didn’t try to save me because to him it looked like I was having a blast. Y’all I was in serious trouble. I guess finally he saw the panic in my eyes and realized that I wasn’t really having fun at all. Once he was close enough, I was able to tell him that I was really in trouble. Meanwhile the lifeguard is yelling at us to go sideways because we are too far out (Yeah, thanks buddy). After I was safely on the beach and could catch my breath again, he was able to tell me why he didn’t think I needed him. He was actually kind of upset with me for laughing when the situation was so serious. He was like, “You could have died, and you just kept laughing!” Until that day, I never really realized how dangerous my defense mechanisms could be. I had relied on them for so long to help get me through difficult situations, but I had never stopped to consider how that was really affecting me.

So now I make a point of telling people, and so does my husband, that I laugh when I am really hurt. Just because I’m laughing doesn’t mean I’m not hurt…sometimes the harder I laugh, the deeper the pain. Isn’t this kind of true for all of us though? Aren’t we all a little guilty of this? When someone hurts us, isn’t it sometimes easier to laugh instead of telling them that we are hurt? Then, just like me, you go and tend to your wounds when no one else is around to see how badly you are really hurting. Sometimes it isn’t another person that inflicts the pain, sometimes pain just comes and we laugh because we don’t know what else to do and everyone else is laughing. We don’t want to spoil the party with our pain; so we laugh, and then we go and catch our breath alone. Sometimes we cause the pain; so we laugh because that is what we do when we are in pain. We hurt others when we laugh at the pain that we caused them. I’d wager that we all have pain that we have tried to laugh off at one time or another.

I have learned some valuable lessons through the years. When I was a teenager growing up in church, I always thought people with tragic testimonies had a direct link to God that I just couldn’t understand. They would say things like, “Until you’ve walked this path you can’t know” or “I thought I knew God before this happened, but I had no idea” or “I had a spiritual awakening”. I wanted all of those things. I thought, good grief why does something bad have to happen to me for me to really know God?!? Then my young teenage, hungry for God, mind would kick in and I’d pray for something to happen so that I could have my testimony. Was I COMPLETELY insane?!?!? The answer is YES. Yes, I was. I was a teenager. I was too young, and too in the forest to fully understand that I was already living my testimony. My home life wasn’t uber stable and I didn’t handle that in healthy ways at all. My brother went to war when I was 14, and I was being sharpened for what was to come. I won’t lie, when my mom died a few years later, I seriously questioned whether or not my silly teenage prayers for a stronger testimony had finally been answered. I seriously screamed out to God that this was not what I meant. I never wanted a testimony this big… But guess what, this is the story that I have to live; how I live it is up to me. Y’all I can’t laugh my way through this. I just can’t. Don’t y’all get tired of laughing when all you want to do is be honest and say it hurts? Or that you are tired? Or that you are just okay? Sometimes it is okay to not be okay. You don’t have to laugh or cry…just be. Some days that is a feat in and of itself…am I right?

My man literally saved me from drowning that day in Mexico. He has continued to save me in so many ways over the years. The thing is, as close as we are, he still doesn’t always know when I’m sinking. Sometimes he hears me laughing and doesn’t know that I’m really hurting. I am surrounded by friends and family that love and support me, yet sometimes I don’t know how to start that conversation. How do you just stop laughing and tell them that something hurts? How do you look them in the eyes and tell them that you aren’t really laughing, you’re drowning? …tell them that you need help? …that you need them to reach out and grab you, pull you back in because you are tired of swimming and fighting the tide? It is so much easier to keep laughing, but sooner or later you’ll go under. You won’t be able to touch anymore, and you can’t keep swimming and laughing forever. No one is that strong. Eventually the tide wins. Friends we have to figure out a way to stop laughing at our pain. Understand that no one ever expected that. No one ever asked for that level of self-sacrifice; and if they did, they need to move along.

Now don’t misunderstand me here… I certainly am not one to believe that we should wallow in our misery and wear it like our favorite pj’s. I’m not talking about when we are in a bad mood and just want to stew for a minute. In those cases, perhaps we all need to figure out a way to pull up our own britches and get a move on. There is a distinct difference between being in a mood, and drowning…if you don’t know the difference, then you’ve probably never almost drowned before. It honestly isn’t a feeling you’ll forget.

I have lost too many friends in the past several years to suicide, and depression related diseases. One is too many. My heart aches when I think of how many times they might have been laughing, but they were really drowning. They felt broken and tired, but all I heard was their laughter. I saw what they wanted me to see, not what they needed me to see. When I remember back to times that I might have been able to help, or to reach out to them had I only known they needed me to… my heart breaks. I just wish we could all be better about asking for help when we need it. Ask for help before we need it. Establish those lines of communication so that they are open and ready when we really need them. Don’t wait until you’re drowning to try to get someone’s attention. Ask for a hand, a shoulder, someone to talk to when you just don’t want to be alone. Look around, are people drowning around you? Do you realize they’re drowning, but you don’t want to get involved? I’ve never lost sleep at night over the people I’ve offered to help that might not have needed me…

Find your person, your community, your boat…be those things for others. We are all in this together. No one should ever feel truly alone. Be bold, reach out.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline  1-800-273-8255

SuicidePreventionLifeline.org

 

Dear Mama,

I have felt so cheated that I never got to say goodbye and tell you everything I needed to say before you left this earth. I’m not even sure how that’s possible, but I’m sure saying something is better than the nothing I was able to say. So here goes…

I am so sorry for all of the times that I hurt you with my words and my actions. I hope that somehow you are given a window into my life to see that your words and example reached the core of my being. I may have fought you at every turn, but that was hopefully because I was being molded by you. Clay is always hard when you start working with it. I want you to know how I cherish all of my memories of growing up with traditions. I know how hard you worked to make sure we had special memories even when we didn’t have many resources. I have carried on many of those same traditions with my own children. Your silly spirit and ability to laugh and have fun is something that has changed the way I parent our chronically ill daughter…we approach everything with some jokes. Our nightly talks, unwrapping our days and helping each other solve the world’s problems taught me how to talk to my kids. I valued that time with you so much but I don’t know if you ever knew. I just thought it would always be there. I thought you would always be there. Like when you always wanted to teach me how to sew…I really wanted to learn, but I thought there would be time when I was older and I wasn’t busy having fun. I was wrong. Your surprise drop-in visits at my college apartment…bringing goodies to me and all of my friends, seemed like such an intrusion sometimes (even though my friends adored it). I’d give ANYTHING for one of those visits now. Our multiple phone conversations every day…and the running joke that after the last one, you’d still call right back because you forgot to tell me something. “Just one more thing”, you’d always say and all of my friends would laugh. What I wouldn’t give for that little annoyance today. I have so much to tell you! So many things you’ve missed that I know you really wanted to be there for. There have also been some really dark days when I just needed you. I never told you how much it meant to me that you would let me cry while you held me and let me trace the lines in your hand. You didn’t try to fix anything until I was ready, and then the world better watch out because mama bear had some solutions for me. I never told you how much it meant to me that you always had my back and believed me; you never doubted me or questioned my integrity. Now as a mother myself, I wish I could tell you how thankful I am for the example you provided in being a strong mother. You didn’t push everything on dad, we didn’t want to mess with you. I never wanted to disappoint you. You were tough but also loving. I wish you could have known the impact you had on so many other kids’ lives besides your own kids. Our friends, the kids at church, the kids at the Job Corps…you were so loved. You had no idea how much. I didn’t tell you enough how beautiful I thought you were. I was young and had my own insecurities; I had no idea or perspective on aging yet. I should have been telling you all the time how great your skin looked, and how beautiful your hair was styled. When you were down on yourself, I should have been better about shutting down your negative voice and lifting you up. I hope you see that this is who I strive to be now. You were one of the most honest people I have ever met. I always admired that about you. I hope my kids say the same thing about me someday. You also taught me to be a friend to the friendless and because of that lesson, I have made some of the best friends of my life. My kids walk into a room and that is the first thing that plays in their brain (if they know what’s good for them). When people think of my family, I want them to immediately associate our name with a sense of belonging…”Oh them? Yeah, I know them, they’re like my family”, is music to my ears. I got that from you. You wanted that in our home. You always wanted a home like that. I’m just sorry that you aren’t here to enjoy my family because you would love them. You would see each and every one of them for the unique soul that they are, and you would just adore them. I finally found the one my soul longs for, and you couldn’t have picked a better husband for me. You would have him doing projects for you all the time.

When I think of what it would be like to have you in my life now, the possibilities break my heart. Today would’ve been a fabulous day to hit Half Priced Books, get a pedicure and some lunch. You would love taking walks in the nature preserve, or swimming in our pool. The internet would blow your mind! Don’t even get me started on how you’d react to my craft room that he built for me…

Thank you for teaching me more than you realize. Thank you for loving me without question. Thank you for always being there…even when I didn’t seem like I wanted you to be. Thank you for pouring into me for 20 years the tools and lessons I needed to build a fabulous life. Thank you for caring if I was a truly good person. Thank you for showing me how to be compassionate. Thank you for teaching me how to laugh and dance in the rain. Thank you for teaching me that being a pretty lady really has very little to do with outward appearance if the inner package is rotten…you know lipstick and a pig and all. Thank you for taking me to church; to build a relationship, not for show.

I had no way of knowing this at 20 years old, even if I would have had the opportunity to tell you. A life lived without you, has given me this perspective, so I’m telling you now. I miss you every day. I love you more today than I ever have because I’ve seen life through your eyes now. I just wanted to tell you that you were a great mom, and I hope that you think you did a great job too. I hope that I’ve made you proud. Happy Birthday Mama, I love you!

My Mom always taught me the old adage, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”  Well, that was a VERY difficult lesson for me to learn apparently.  One that I guess I only half learned.  For those of you who know me well, you know that I have a “strong” personality (if you want to put it nicely).  I have zero qualms telling people how I feel.  If you have toilet paper stuck to your shoe, I will tell you.  I will be as discreet as possible, but I will tell you.  I won’t laugh at you.  I won’t tell everyone that I just saved you from public humiliation.  I will just tell you and move on.  That same honesty heads your way when you are in the wrong.  When you are being a jerk, I will let you know.  I have been so fortunate to have friends that do this for me in my life. I don’t know how people survive without honest friends who call each other on the carpet.  I think sometimes we convince ourselves that is what we are doing in our circles; when really we just have an entire circle of no one wanting to tell each other what we really think for fear of hurting each other’s feelings…but isn’t that what it takes sometimes to be real?  Don’t we need to get down and dirty before we can get to a better place?

I think of when I purged my closet recently.  I had to take everything out and my room was a COMPLETE DISASTER!!!  Then after I went through each item and decided whether to keep, trash, or donate…slowly but surely, not only was my room looking cleaner, but my closet was amazing and so organized.  I felt so clam walking into my closet and being able to see what I had accomplished.  All of the garbage was gone.  I didn’t see the bad stuff anymore, the clutter was gone.  I could actually move around and my mood didn’t get sour just falling over stuff in there.

Sounds kind of like the negativity and baggage in our relationships that we just sweep over thinking it will blow past but it never does…it just builds up until the relationship collapses and breaks.  Or we break.

This is me being R.E.A.L.

I am in the struggle of my life right now.  I am hanging on by a thread and I am trying so hard to be true to myself and not let this change me.  I am desperately trying to not let it change my kids.  Believe me, I know that we never really know what goes on behind closed doors, or in the lives of others…but I also know that most of the people we surround ourselves with have not known true heartache and strife.  Most of the teenagers and young adults my kids are friends with have no idea what true struggle and adversity means.  They will someday, and that will be life changing, but to claim that their characters have been built upon the adversity they have met thus far is insulting to those who have actually survived real challenges.

I’ll be honest, by the time I graduated, I thought my testimony couldn’t get any more real.  I thought I had one of the most difficult lives of any of my friends…which was probably true at that time.  And then I lost my mom at 20…suddenly, and with no warning.  At 21, I thought my story would never get worse…now, 20 years later, I have a sick child.  I can promise you, I pray there is nothing worse than that…but even so, I have 3 beautiful kids, a husband that adores me, an abundant life, lifelong friends, and blessings too many to count.  Although my testimony continues to surprise me, so does God by carrying me.  I have days that exhaust me.  Days that terrify me.  Days that I just can’t move forward.  Other days are wonderful and perfect.  Life is full of twists and turns…some are dark and twisty, some are exhilarating.

I guess my point to this story is this…sometimes it gets difficult to hear people speaking about overcoming adversity in their lives that seem pretty perfect from the outside.  Maybe they do have some unseen struggle.  Maybe they’re thinking the same thing about me….

The fact is, it’s ok to not be struggling.  It is ok to be ok.  I think in a world that is topsy-turvy, people think they must have some inner darkness in order to fit in.  Especially Chrstians…we think we have to have some dark and twisty road in order to have a great testimony.  That simply isn’t true.  I think sometimes people think they need the street cred in order to be taken more seriously as Christians.  Trust me, I’d trade my scars and road rash for one more day with my Mom.  I would trade my entire story, if my daughter could attend every birthday party her friends have; to feel “normal” and healthy.

Your testimony doesn’t give you character…your character gives you a testimony.

Your story will come.  Don’t live your life waiting for your story.  Your life is the story.  Go live it, and live it well.

Have you ever been so overwhelmed by the fight ahead of you, that you just sat and mentally ran down the scenario of fleeing?  Sometimes I get so buried, that all I can do is play out in my head the scenario of me running away to some fabulous location.  Fiji perhaps.  My problem is that sometimes I get so frustrated that I give voice to my plan and make the mistake of telling my family that I’m planning my escape.  I don’t want them to be surprised by my disappearance.  This is where things get dicey…my husband, and my kids always want to join my escape.  So fine, they can come too…and for sure I’m taking the dogs (all 3 Great Danes)…and we’ll need some of our favorite things, clothes, I need books, and snacks.  By the time I finish mentally gathering all of my necessary running away items, I decide it is probably easier if I just stay put.  This puts me back at square one…facing my life.

If I am going to face this, I’m going to need a good weapon.  It feels like the world is coming at me with swords, and I’m trying to fend them off with the tube left over from my Christmas wrap.  Reminds me of playing light saber wars with my brother when we were little.

For the most part, we deal with our daughter’s chronic illness quite well as a family.  Take for instance yesterday…I received a call from her school a few hours after the day had started, that they had flu cases in her class.  In an attempt to protect her from catching yet another bug, I went and picked her up for the day.  Sounds fun, right?!  Well, upon calling her doctor office, they inform me that now that she is on the mend from her last series of infections, she really needs to get her flu shot…pronto.  So, we head to the pharmacy since they have the vaccine in stock.  As we walk in, she announces to me that it’s a 4 needle day since she has her infusion later that night.  UGH!  We crack jokes, and I tease her about possible ways that I might embarrass her during her shot.  I tell her that I might scream when I get mine, or that I’ll tell the pharmacist that I just need a second to tie her up before she’ll sit still for her shot.  All of this to lighten the mood…she thought she was getting a nice day off with mom…no such luck!  The pharmacist finally comes over to give her the shot.  So I’m standing outside the partition when I notice the lady in a complete and utter panic.  I look over the wall, and blood is squirting down my daughter’s arm.  The pharmacist is doing everything in her power to stop the leak, but it is coming too fast, and too much.  She’s soaking cotton balls by the second.  My sweet girl is just sitting there trying to console the employee, even as her arm is swelling up, getting hot and red.  She downs a Benadryl and announces that it is now my turn.  My turn goes without a hitch.  Unfortunately all of the bad mojo was her luck today.   By the time we return home, all she can talk about is a nap.  She feels awful, but won’t say so.  She naps and then gets up to work on her Science project during her infusion.  Our fun bonus day off is a bust.

This morning she was back to school, ready to move on.  This is what she does, she fights even when it doesn’t seem like she’s fighting.  We crack jokes, and make up silly stories to give a gentle voice to some of the pain and fear.

These are her physical battles.  What about all of the birthday parties that she can’t attend for her friends because they are going bowling, or to a trampoline park, or to the movie theater?  Germs and infections lurking in every dark crevice.  Too risky.   What about all of the parties and events that she just doesn’t get invited to anymore?  How do I help her fight those battles?  The emotional attacks that she really can’t help.  What about the school that she has attended since Pre-K, that now isn’t sure they are the right place for her next year?  How do I explain that rejection to her?  She has a disease that is completely beyond her control.  Hiding behind faceless committees, they might decide that the place she has enjoyed learning for 7 years, might be better off without her there. She tries so hard to make up for it in other ways.  How could anyone, in good conscience, turn their back on her?  Does anyone ever consider her spirit in this battle?  How much can one little girl face before it is just too much?

If you don’t know her, you are really missing out on something special.  Even with the possibility of not being invited back to her school next year, she searches for a silver lining.  She refuses to be beaten by this battle.  I, on the other hand am completely heartbroken by the betrayal.  She has determined that other kids have been home schooled in middle school and then come back to even more friends in later years.  This girl leaves a wake of smiles everywhere she goes.  Her sweet heart, and spirit for others, is contagious.  She will make the most of whatever life throws at her.  That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.  Kind of like her needles…she tells her siblings that just because she is used to the pain, doesn’t mean that she doesn’t feel it, and that it doesn’t still hurt.  She feels pain, she just doesn’t give it power.

I have no idea what path her life will take, but I don’t really have to know…I just have to remember that God loves her even more than I do, if one can imagine that vast amount.  He has a plan for her story, despite some of the unspeakable trials along the way.  I might only have a cardboard tube in my hands, but I have a mighty warrior on my side.  She can rest in knowing that her battles will never be fought alone.

We all have our own struggles.  Take a lesson from a child, stand tall and face them bravely with a smile and a joke.  Laughter is great medicine…never lose your sense of humor.  Take some swings with your wrapping paper tube, but remember that is not your only weapon.

As a parent, I struggle with remembering that my kids are real people.  I know that sounds weird, but what I mean is that they are their own people.  They have their own thoughts, beliefs, and dreams.  We invest so much over the years, trying to raise these little creatures into the kind of people we can stand to be around.  We literally spend years of our lives trying to influence and control every decision and every outcome.  We spend countless moments counseling and explaining, lecturing and reassuring, praising and guiding their every move.  All of this in the hopes that someday, they will become the people we want them to be.

These past few years, as my kids have begun the real  transition into adulthood, I am realizing that they need to be their own people.  God has a plan for their lives; it really isn’t up to me how they will turn out.  I can do my best to impart wisdom and values, but in the end, how they turn out is really up to them.  I can’t make every decision for them, nor do I really want to forever.  I want them to grow into their skin, and make decisions that they can live with.  I want them to find their voice, and learn to use it.

I want so much for these kids, I sometimes try to force the outcome that I think is best.  I put my stamp on their thoughts, trying to make them think as I do.  Yes, it is my job to teach them well, and raise them to know where to find the truth they seek.  It has never been my job to make them into me.  In reality, I wouldn’t want them to be.  I’m far from perfect, and I have made more than my fair share of mistakes.  I actually want better for my kids…I want them to have an easier road to walk.  Sometimes I get caught in the trap of trying to remove every stumbling block, pothole, or diversion from their path.  That is not my job, and I’m so glad that it isn’t because I really don’t think that is possible…or wise.  Keeping my kids from making their own decisions because they might make a bad one, isn’t teaching them anything.  The reality is that they will make bad decisions, they will make choices that I didn’t even consider, they will fall; it’s my job to help them up, dust them off, and set them back on the road.  I can, and should, help them learn from the choices they make.  I should point them in the direction of truth.  I should give them advice from an open heart.  I should not try to keep them from growing into their britches though.

I guess this is just one more step in the letting go process.  I’m learning to bite my tongue, bide my time, and avoid verbiage that sounds like “I told you so”.  They need to know that it is okay to fail.  I’m still going to love them, they’ll always have a safe place to learn from their mistakes.  I need them to be confident enough to try.  I need them to be willing to fail.  I need them to trust themselves in difficult situations.  I need them to trust themselves, period.  How can they ever get to that point if I don’t trust them?  If I have done my job correctly, they will be well equipped to handle themselves appropriately.

Let’s say they do fall every now and again…why do we as parents, feel like their poor decisions are a direct reflection on us?  Raising capable adults, means allowing them their own freedom of choice.  Sometimes their choices will line up with what they have been taught; sometimes they will go completely rogue and make a choice that seemingly forgets everything we ever taught them.  This makes them young and maturing; this doesn’t make us bad parents.  I have to stop wearing them as badges of honor.  Their accomplishments are theirs, their poor decisions are theirs…they are their own people, good or bad.  My job is to love them regardless, and to help them when they need guidance.

I cringe when someone says that a parent should’ve taught their kid better than that.  Most of us do, but that doesn’t mean that they always listen or agree with our teaching.  In the end, the decision will be theirs to make.  All we can do is teach them well and pray!  We can pray that our words found the way into their hearts.  We can pray that they will choose right over wrong.  We can pray wisdom over them.  We cannot take the fall for their mistakes though.  We cannot blame ourselves when our kids don’t think just like us.

So, I’m learning how to step back.  I’m learning how to just listen to my kids.  I can’t shoulder the weight of everyone’s decisions.  As they grow, they should be able to carry their own weight.  This doesn’t mean that my heart doesn’t ache when they are faced with difficult choices.  I still feel their pain, sorrow, stress, and anguish…after all, I am still their mom;  their #1 fan.  I feel every step, and every misstep.  I’m learning to just love them through these times though; not try to shield them from everything.  I’m trying not to clean up every mess just to save face as a parent.

Maybe you struggle with this whole letting go thing too.  I certainly hope that I’m not alone in this process.  For some reason, I don’t think that I am.  Love your kids and hold on…sometimes being a good parent is a bumpy ride; but it is so worth it.

To say that the past few months have been stressful would be a humorous understatement.  I mean there is stress, and then there is STRESS.  I think we all know the difference.  We all have stressful days, or moments of anxiety to work through in our daily lives.  But then there are those times when the stress seems crushing, like the world is just trying to kick you when you’re down.  That is where I have been the past few weeks.

Being the primary caretaker of a chronically ill child just sounds stressful.  Maybe that’s why I try to avoid checking that box on my job description.  I do it, but I have to do it without paying it much thought.  If I focused on that aspect of my job, I do think I would struggle to find the joy.  Rather, I am just a mom who loves her kids…all of them.  I do my best to take care of them individually, and all that that entails. Obviously, sometimes one child will need me more, or in ways the others might not.

My daughter has been fighting this last infection since October.  That virus that you called your pediatrician about, just took her out for 7 weeks.  Yeah, try explaining to people how your child is still sick with a “sinus infection” for almost two months.  If you thought that sounds crazy, then your reaction is pretty spot on.  I have been asked if I am giving her anything for it.  I have been asked if she is still sick.  And then there are the looks that people give me…the ones that make me feel like I better keep talking and explain it all away.  People can’t be understanding about things they don’t understand.  I feel like it is my job to make them understand.

Here is the thing though…I decided a long time ago that we were happy.  We are a happy family.  Being together is what makes everything OK.  We actually don’t sit around being sad about her illness.  Most days, that fact just lives in the background.  She takes her medicines morning and night (sometimes in between when she is sick), and then goes about living her life.  Even when she is home sick, we try to focus on other things rather than dwelling on how bad she feels.

A huge ingredient in our recipe of happiness, is noticing things to be thankful for.  Sometimes these are huge blessings, and other times they are little things that just make life easier or better.  Trust me, there are plenty of days that I have to consciously look for things to be thankful for.  When we are heading to see yet another specialist, and traffic is stopped, and everyone is a little nervous…we are still thankful for good insurance and a car.  I am thankful that if my daughter has to go through this, at least we are blessed with my ability to stay home and take care of her.  I honestly don’t know how working moms deal with sick kiddos.  We are blessed that on the days of major appointments, my husband has the flexibility to leave work and come with us.  I am so thankful for our family.  I really do think it is a rare treasure.

There are days when I wish that I could just build a cocoon around myself and hide.  When I’m asking her ten times to take her meds, when the dishes are a mile high, when we aren’t getting any answers…hiding and quitting seem like great alternatives.  I get trapped in this alternate universe where nothing can exist outside my walls.  I’m so consumed with trying to get her healthy, stay on top of some semblance of order in my home, not to mention the renovation project we are in the middle of on an investment property; that I just can’t give the real world a thought.  I almost seem surprised in these moments that the calendar keeps moving.  Events and responsibilities just keep coming whether or not we are in a good place to deal with them.  Deadlines are real.  It’s learning to find the joy, even in these moments of extreme stress, that bind us and propel us forward.  I could sulk, I seem to remember being pretty good at it as a kid; but then, where is the joy in that?  Moving past those moments and getting back to the good stuff…knowing there is still good stuff, is the important thing.

God never promised clear skies, but He did promise to walk with us in the storm.  There is no avoiding the rain, it is coming whether you’re ready or not.  Maybe it is just me, but I feel like every storm loses some power when it gets filtered through joy.  My daughter and I have made each other laugh in some of the most stressful situations, because we needed to practice joy.  Doctors and nurses have come into her room and expected to see a morose child feeling sorry for herself, and were surprised to find her in good spirits.  She is truly an example to others about having joy versus happiness.  One’s happiness is dependent on outside factors, and can change depending on circumstances.  Joy is a choice, one has to choose to be joyful.  Not always an easy assignment, but worth it every time.  I’ve never thought that I wasted time being happy or laughing; however, I have thought back over time wasted being sad or low.

So, the next time that you are planning your escape into hibernation, remember to look for things in every situation that you can be thankful for instead.  Don’t focus on the storm, have fun jumping in the puddles.  Maybe it is a really bad storm, then you just hold on tight and wait for the amazing rainbow that was promised.  It is in the knowing that the storm will pass, and the sun will shine again, that we have the power to overcome.  Don’t be a storm chaser, just waiting for the next big one to hit.  Let the sun shine brightly on the good days.  If you just can’t see anything in your storm, reach out… you are never alone.

Be thankful and find your joy.  Live so that others can see that you are joyful even in the rain.  I know that I have difficult days, but I genuinely hope and pray that everyone can see joy in my heart.  I’ll keep working on it…

I have been trying to write this blog for quite some time now, and just haven’t been able to find the right words.  I’m just going to go for it, and hope that it lands on it’s feet with the right understanding and kind intentions with which it was written.

My heart aches every single day that I am on social media and see girls posting selfies of themselves in provocative positions with captions that are obviously begging for attention.  Ladies, I know some of you are lonely.  I have been there and I know it hurts.  I know how it feels to just crave that one compliment…to think that if you hear someone tell you something nice about yourself, you can survive today.  The problem with that, is it doesn’t last.  You need more compliments, from more people.  Just like any other craving, it becomes addicting.  One compliment feels nice, but one hundred feels amazing.  Before you know it, your entire value comes from what other faceless people have to say about you.

I was young and single when that stupid website, “Hot or Not”, first came out.  What a brilliant idea this was for society.  I’m so proud to share that I was right there to put my face online.  I couldn’t wait to be told by a myriad of guys, whether or not, they thought I was “Hot”.  This stupid website polled thousands of internet men, based solely on your picture, and gave you a percentage of hotness 1-10%.  I was instantly hooked.  I lived and breathed this website.  I checked my “hotness” CONSTANTLY, and was devastated if I dropped a fraction of a percent.  I would dig through every guy to see how they had rated me.  I needed to see if it was a cute guy that rated me poorly.  I needed to see how much I valued his opinion of me.  The problem was, I always valued their opinion on some level because I was giving it my time and attention.  I was letting it affect how I felt about myself, and how I valued myself.  I had no opinion of myself outside of that website and those guys.  That spilled over into my dating life.  I started treating guys very bad because I felt like I was better than some of them, but less than others.  I had this whole ranking system going on in my head.  It was the “Hot or Not” of the real dating world in my life.  It was a sickness.  It was just sad.  My friends were getting so tired of my issues.

“Hot or Not” may not exist anymore (thank God), but that mentality is still alive and well with social media and selfies.  Girls posting these selfies, and guys reacting to them online, are creating the very same situations.  I see myself in these girls, and I worry about them.  It isn’t the kind of attention that you deserve.  If you had ever had the right kind of attention, you would know the difference, and that is what makes me sad.  Now that I have my wonderful husband, I can recognize what a fool I was being, and how foolish I looked.  I’m embarrassed of how I acted.  I’m embarrassed that friends tried to help me stop, and I didn’t listen.  I couldn’t see it at the time.  I thought I looked beautiful, the guys were telling me exactly what I wanted to hear, and they convinced me that my friends were just jealous.  Super embarrassing now.  Guaranteed my friends were NOT jealous of my stupid behavior.  I fear some of you may be caught in a similar trap.

Girls, we have to stop giving guys everything they want, just because they ask for it.  Stop making fools of ourselves just to get their attention.  Stop bending over backwards because they might not stay.  Girls, we are stronger, smarter, and better than that!  If you are talking to a guy, and all of his profile friends are women who take a million selfies…he might not be boyfriend material.  If a guy is asking you to send him inappropriate pictures, he is a scumbag.  If a guy is comfortable commenting on your body, before he has even met you, he is going to hurt you in one way or another.  No gentleman ever started a good relationship with a lady by commenting on her body parts.  Beware of the booty call.  Guys who just want to “hang out”, but never take you out on a date; are not worth your time.   Justify it however you want, but my point will still be valid.  You will never be anything more to him than a piece of property, or a conquest, as long as you let him treat you as such.

If you are a gentleman reading this blog, you are not innocent; if you have female friends that post selfies and you like them.  Stop liking their pics, stop encouraging them to put themselves out there in ways that you know your male cohorts use inappropriately.  You know as well as I do, that men aren’t seeing them as ladies, but as pieces of meat.  Be a real friend and tell them the truth about how guys think of girls who post pics like that.  Are those the girls that they ever really want long term?  Are those the girls that they want to treat nice, marry, make their queen?  No, they treat them like a mistress.  They treat them like the fantasy that the girl is portraying herself to be.  And tell your guy friends to man up and stop treating girls like garbage.  If you know guys who are using these girls, tell them to stop buying into it.  If guys didn’t give the girls attention, girls wouldn’t put it out there.  It is a vicious cycle that has to be broken on all sides.

Ladies, you have the power to make the change.  Stop taking cleavage shots of yourself on your bed.  Stop posting bikini pics in your bedroom.  Stop posting pics of yourself  with your phone angled down your shirt.  Stop taking selfies of you in your nighties, bras, or in suggestive poses.  Stop posting provocative quotes and jokes trying to constantly associate yourself with sex.  There is nothing sexy about being lewd.  Stop making everything about guys.  Focus on yourself and what makes you happy.   Let your smile with friends be what attracts him.  Take a picture of yourself doing an activity that you enjoy.

Marilyn Monroe was a little mysterious.  I don’t think anyone would argue her sexiness.  There is a difference between exuding sexiness and screaming sexiness.  Please, stop screaming it all over social media.  It gives all females a bad name when it screams of desperation.  The attention will come when you least expect it.  I know it did for me.  I took my face off all of those sites, I purged myself of my  addiction.  I had decided to just let it all go.  Then he found me…when I least expected it.  When I wasn’t looking, when I didn’t really want it.  Even when I didn’t really feel pretty.  He saw me right away.  He wasn’t my usual type; but turns out, he was my perfect one.  Stop trying so hard.  Stop craving the constant attention from the wrong sources.  Find your own worth.  Your true value can’t come from another human being, we are imperfect.  we will always fail.  People will always let you down and hurt you.  Don’t put your value in people.  I love my husband, but he doesn’t define my value and worth.  Learn to love yourself.  Remember that you were created by a God who loves you more than we can ever understand.  Strangers will never be able to tell you what you are worth.

I challenge you to go look at your social media pics and clean up your images.  Take down any pics that don’t represent the person you want the world to see.  Who do you really want to be?  Not the person who craves the attention, but the real you.  Be authentic, that is what is truly attractive.  Trust that you are enough.  I promise you are.