The Struggle is Real.

It may come as a surprise to no on that I struggle with a great many things.
The immediate and true response is, "Well yeah, everyone does. So what?"
I know that I am not alone in having challenges in my life, and that those challenges pale in comparison many others. I  try my level best to keep it in mind when another stress-filled "Thing" comes up, adding itself to my metaphorical 'plate'.
           One of the things I struggle with lately is the upkeep of this blog. I love my blog. I was inspired by an incredibly talented writer friend of mine several years ago to begin this blog. I was so entertained by her fabulous ability that I felt compelled to start my own. It made sense, I had always been "that girl" who wrote notes to everyone to communicate when I was feeling something that felt too challenging for me to communicate. Writing it out was a more effective form of self expression for me.
So I began a blog. I love writing in my blog but I have found myself struggling with its upkeep this year, and I don't want to just give it up yet.
           The problem I am encountering is my desire to keep an element of lightheartedness to my post. If you read one of my posts and find yourself laughing at me, or even smiling a little , I consider it a successful entry. Finding the humor in adversity can make it easier to endure.
This past year has found me struggling to find the humor in a seeming onslaught of adversity. I know it is there, and I feel confident that someday, when I am past it, I will be able to make fun of myself and the situations my family has endured, and are currently still in the process of enduring. Right now though, in the thick of it, I find myself unable to summon that particular ability. It is exceedingly frustrating. For a long while now we have been trying to get to that metaphorical "light" at the end of the tunnel, but when we get to the end of the tunnel all we find is an immediate entrance to yet another tunnel! We have been going through a series of "tunnels" for a very long while now.
      When this year began we had been living in Milwaukee for only five months, but had already made the decision to return to Houston as soon as we could find a way to do so. The reasons behind this decision are not easily condensed into this post so I will ask that if anyone finds themselves with a burning desire to learn of our reasons, contact me privately and I'll be happy to elucidate.
            I knew that the process of returning "home" to Texas would be tricky, but I am not sure I could have anticipated the number of obstacles/stressors/struggles that we encountered. One after another they came. Still they come.
They have come from all directions, at varying velocities:

• Finding a job in Texas.
• Finding a place to live in Texas.
• The entire process of packing and moving across the country with three small children and no place to bring the truck full of our worldly belongings. 
• Finding a place to stay because we couldn't secure a place to live until the new job would validate employment, which they wouldn't do until after  the first day on the job.
• Securing a place to live, that would be within our limited budget and also big enough to accommodate a family our size. 
• Waiting for that place to be available to move into.
• Realizing that we simply wouldn't be able to afford it if I didn't acquire gainful employment as well. 
• Balancing full-time motherhood of three amazing, but needy small children, while also trying to be a valuable employee at my job. (and moving into our new/old place at the same time)
• Trying to figure out how to adequately pay a babysitter without completely negating the income I earn while needing the babysitter. 
• Helping my husband endure an exceptionally terrible job that embodies the very definition of "overworked" and "underpaid". 
• Learning that my only living Grandfather is severely ill, requiring my Father to provide nearly all his care. 
• Trying to help and offer support to my Father and other family members caring for my Grandfather, lacking the time to feel like I am adequately contributing.
• A recently, very, stressful work environment brought on by circumstances beyond our control. (This is another one that I will be happy to discuss outside of a social media/public setting, due to the delicate nature of the topic in relation to maintaining my job security i.e. I wont talk about it here in case it gets me fired.)

There are so many other things I want to add to that list, but, despite all appearances to the contrary I am actually trying NOT to throw myself a pity party! I have really just felt so walled in by all my stress for the past year and have desperately needed an outlet to purge it.
     I have always been pretty terrible at asking for help, even when it was clear to me that I needed it. I abhor the idea that I might, in any way, shape or form, be a burden to someone else. Indeed my mission in life is to try to be a reliever, rather than a compounder of burdens on others. Sometimes though, it becomes too much and overwhelms me and I need help, and because I am so awful at soliciting it, I end up gritting my teeth and pushing through on my own. It makes me feel a little better knowing I didn't bother anyone, but still very alone. 

I want to be so stoic. 

I fear I am not, At all. 

If someone out there happens upon this post I want to make a small request. ( I say "happens upon" but I am also honest enough with myself to know that most, if not all those who read this will do so because I will post it to my Facebook)
If I open myself up to you and trust you with one or some of my burdens, please do not admonish me with "At least you have better than..." I am very aware that there are billions upon billions out there who have it MUCH worse than me, that I am LUCKY and BLESSED in comparison. I am not ungrateful for what I have. I am not ignorant to the fact that it could be worse. It could ALWAYS be SO MUCH worse. The problem I struggle with, is that in my life, there are so many instances that by all accounts SHOULDN'T be as difficult as they are.  It stings to be met with a guilt trip when I feel like I have trusted someone with something that is so personal. It makes me feel like not sharing with anyone anymore. 

     I promise I am trying. I am trying to shoulder my burdens with grace. I am exhausted, but I am not going to quit.

    This year is rapidly drawing to a close and for the first time, I am not going to be sorry to leave this year behind me.
      

     I am resolving to "do a little better" in all aspects of my life. To be a little stronger, a little wiser. I am pleading for more patience, wherever I can get it.
      I want to hone my feeble writing ability with this blog as was its original purpose. I promise to find that element of lightness again and incorporate it into future writing. 

As always, but more than ever right now,  'Please Don't judge me too harshly Dear Readers', my patience, my strength, my humility, and my stamina are on trial.

I am weary, but determined, and I guess thats all I can be just now.

A Scattered Soliloquy for Mother's Day.

I learned something recently;
           Did you know that the celebration of a 'Mother's day' in the U.S. was pioneered by a woman who died alone,  with no children of her own? Her name was Anna Marie Jarvis, and a quick google search will bring several results describing her life and mission to create a national day to recognize mothers. You can read about it all here and here.
The interesting part was not that she was never a mother herself, but that she wanted to honor her own mother. A woman who had mothered twelve children herself and had subsequently lost eight of them to illness and other tragedies.

Whenever mother's day rolls around each year the controversy stirs up. We should all honor and respect our mother's and those of us who have delivered/adopted children are theoretically supposed to be honored ourselves. But what makes a "mother"? What of those on the outside looking in? The ones grieving the children they can't have, or worse, have had and lost? There is no word in the English language for a mother who has lost a child. It is too horrible a thing to even name.

Let me tell you a story:
Nearly two years ago, when I was about nine weeks pregnant with my third child, I found out that a friend of mine who was nearly full term with HER third baby had discovered that her baby had passed away in the womb. She had to go in and deliver her stillborn baby and plan her funeral. I still hadn't announced publicly that I was expecting again when I received the phone call asking if I would lead the music and sing a song at the funeral for the baby girl.  I remember standing up there, singing the words to "families can be together forever" and focusing on staying in tune without choking up. It was very challenging. I couldn't look at the face of my sweet friend who sat, surrounded by her family, hoping that the words to that song might lift and comfort her even a tiny bit.
The truth was that,  I could not fully understand her pain. I imagine it must have been absolute agony. It caused me to really sit and think about how truly fortunate I was to have my own two, beautiful, healthy, children, and the little life that was inside me, who turned out to be my sweet, number three.

Over the years I have known so many dear women who struggled with the loss of their own children, and those who struggled and even battled mightily with infertility and miscarriages. Mother's day for them, is a dark day. A day for society to rub salt and lemon juice into open, un-healing wounds. I have lost count of the friends and loved ones that I know who have had the misfortune to suffer these injustices of nature. It is far beyond "unfair" and my heart breaks for each of my friends and loved ones who suffer (often silently) each day, and who will undoubtedly  hurt this coming Sunday.

And then of course, on the other hand...

Mother's day has become something of a cynics dream over the years. A holiday seemingly designed to keep greeting card companies, florists and the trinket-laden gift shops in business. Tents go up in the parking lots of grocery stores. Merchants ready to profit off of the procrastinating, slacker children who have forgotten that sunday is 'Mother's day'. 

And then if you DO forget or skim through mother's day, you are a terrible child!

I will be the first to admit that I am not very good at Mother's day. I am sure I did a few things over the years for my mother, and I will post the obligatory picture of my mother on Social media to make sure people know that I have a mom, and that I love her. (And of course, I do. My mom is a rockstar who deserves every, single accolade I can come up with for her and then some!)

Pictured above: a Rockstar.

The thing is, I  try tell my mom I love her every time I talk to her. I try to do special little things for her whenever I can. I love the idea of doing some big, grand thing for mom on mothers day, but more often than not, I am not able to do much at all, which of course, makes me look and feel like an awful kid.

This year my life feels a bit like that scene in "Twister" where they are in the shed, strapped to some pipes with belts, riding out a massive tornado and just holding on for dear life. Except that the "tornado" is lasting several weeks. We recently started the process of moving back to Houston from Greendale Wisconsin. We are technically back in the Motherland (Texas) but I can't say we are officially "moved back" yet because we don't technically have a place to live yet due to some obnoxious catch 22 with Rob's job. All our things are still packed in a U-Pack trailer, waiting in a facility somewhere in Houston until we have an address to send it to. (And no, we don't know when that will be...)  Fortunately we have my parents house to ride out the storm until we can find a place of our own, but that doesn't completely erase the feeling of extreme displacement and stress over the whole dumb, stupid, annoying, frustrating, stressful, exhausting situation.... 

(Can you tell I am handling it really well? Cool as a cucumber, thats me!)

I honestly forgot until just a day or two ago (when my weekend was already booked up with 'stuff' we need to do) that Mother's day was this Sunday! So here is my tribute for mother's day this weekend:

For my mom, Brenda, who really is awesome. Who I've been able to watch these past three weeks while she develops the deep, amazing relationship with my daughter who is now old enough to appreciate her and hearkens me back to the relationship I was able to develop early on with MY grandmother (who is also incredible). Who, despite suffering from, often debilitating depression, is always doing something for someone else. 

For my mom friends, who are in the same position as I am. Taking each day, one at a time. Frustrated with their children each day and yet loving them so fiercely that it is palpable.

For my mom friends who struggle with Mother's day because of infertility, miscarriage, or loss. You are mothers too, if only because of your desire to be so. Don't allow anyone to take that from you! Sunday is for you too!

Happy Mother's day ya'll, and if you see me wandering around aimlessly, with eyes glazed over, it probably means I finally combusted from stress. Just point me towards the nearest corner that I can curl into the fetal position and rock back and forth in.