Good-bye, 2015

2015... If I could describe you in one word, it would be "struggle"--which sounds terribly depressing (and a good bit of it was) but with struggle always comes learning and self-revelation. Both of those things are very good and productive, I'd say.

I've struggled this year, mentally, with so many issues that have plagued me for much of my life: anxiety, panic, depression, anger; emotions that often threaten to consume me and take those closest to me as collateral damage. Physically I've grappled with the same old limitations and flaws while my body and mind were challenged by new and ever more difficult challenges. I've struggled with my faith, feeling it being tested, knowing that I need to hang on with increased tenacity, and yet many times being completely unable to summon the energy or motivation to keep fighting for it, or anything else for that matter.

This year I've wrestled with inner demons and outside triggers.

Karl graduated this year and started to work full-time as a real employee of a real company (with benefits!) We are now technically "middle-class" and our living situation is quite comfortable. My children are beautiful, smart, amazing, and I love them very much. My marriage is good. We both have our flaws and our own challenges that test us and our relationship, but he is a good, hard-working man, and we try our best. We have clung together through every issue that has faced us. We love each other despite anything and everything that has tested us.

I thought for sure this was the point in my life I was waiting for, the moment I could stop struggling and finally LIVE and be happy. But that never happened.

I still feel as though I'm constantly treading water, barely able to keep my head above the surface.

My life is good! So why am I not?

This year I gained 20 lbs. I've become more addicted to escaping into my smart phone than ever before--a fact that pains me to no end, but I still feel powerless to stop it. I'm exhausted and my body seems to love to throw one thing after another at me. If it's not POTS, it's pain, if not pain then anxiety, if not anxiety, then stomach issues... I always think that if I could just get through whatever "flare" is laying me out today, I'll get a break and can get back on top of things--but the break never comes.

So, one of my revelations that I've come to this year (if you were wondering where on earth this was all going) is that I have a physical disability and a mental illness.

Ugh. I cringe just writing that. Those terms just seem so... terrible. And seriously, could I possibly any more dramatic??? But, I've realized it's true. It is my truth and I need to accept it and claim it. That's really the only way I can stop making excuses and start making accommodations. To equip myself with the tools I need to live my life.

It seems a little silly, I mean, of course I've always known that these issues were a problem, but I've tried so hard to be "normal", to not appear different or weak. 2016 is the year I finally come out of the "normal/healthy-person closet" and admit and accept what I truly am: imperfection.

From my DNA to my mind, and everything in between, I AM IMPERFECT, just like everyone else... which seems to be the hardest part to accept. I need help. I don't need a mask of ability and normalcy to hide behind. I am me, I struggle, I am imperfect, and from now on, that's okay.

This next year is going to be better than my last year (sorry, 2015), because I've learned a lot. I am positive I will still struggle, but I have come so far (and struggled for so long), I can be better. This year I will be a better wife, mother, and person. NOT perfect--as I've always aimed for--but better.


And that is okay.


So, 2015, thank you for the blessings and moments of happiness (I must acknowledge that those were there too). I really have been thoroughly blessed by my family (big and small), with Karl's job situation, with friends and support, and so many other things. I can see the good, even when I have a hard time feeling it.

However, thank you especially for the struggles. Without them I wouldn't be seeing the glimmer of light at the end of my longest, darkest tunnel.

Even if it is just a glimmer.

Good-bye, 2015.

Worries

I worry sometimes...

Ok, that's a lie, I worry ALL the time (thanks, Anxiety). Sometimes, however, the things I worry about are more justified than others. Today, I had a thought: I realized that I may have doomed my children to a horrible fate. I've thought about and "guilted" over it before, but today it really hit me so specifically that the guilt has gone to a whole new level.

See, my children each have a 50/50 chance of getting my health problems. I didn't know this when I was wishing, hoping, and praying for a baby that didn't seem like she'd ever come, and I still didn't know this when we decided to have a second little one join our family.

At the time I thought I was an anomaly. I thought my issues were mine alone; my fluky, messed up body was just a mistake. It wasn't until my second child was a few months old that I figured out what was wrong with me, and that it was a genetic condition.

Sure, there is definitely a chance that neither of them will get it, and if they did get it, this syndrome is so varying that their symptoms might be much milder than mine. On the other hand, they could be worse than I am, much, much worse :(

It's difficult to tell at this point, and so I worry.

I worry every time they wake crying in the night, thinking they might be in pain from a day of running and just being kids. I worry when my little guy gags and chokes when he eats and drinks, just like his mama. I worry when I watch my daughter walk and see her arches collapse as she over-pronates. "That's normal, they're healthy" the pediatrician tells me, and I try not to let my fears affect my little ones; it's just so hard knowing that my pediatrician said the same thing about me.

Anyway, today I was thinking, and dreaming about what my little man would end up doing with his life, and it struck me that I may have ruined him. He is so athletically inclined; at 18 months he already kicks a ball better than a lot of three year-olds I know. He loves balls of all kinds, he loves to kick and throw, and run and jump. It's fun to think of where he might go with his skills. That is, until the image pops up of a very short, painful athletic career, filled with injuries and frustrating limitations. What if I have stolen his dreams from him??

Obviously, I can't do anything about it now, so worrying and feeling guilty at this point is silly, but sometimes I just can't help it. I've never imagined a future for my babies in which they were anything but healthy and happy, and the thought of anything less is just crushing, especially knowing it would be my fault. The DNA I gave them, my egg, my genetics... Me.

Garg. Apparently I'm in a sulky mood this afternoon... I just wish I could see into the future and prepare for what lies ahead.

I hate not knowing.

 

 

 

 

Sleeping Beauty

My little sleeping beauty...

The past little while she's been asking me to hold her hand while she falls asleep, which I'm quite happy to do :) It means I get to see this beautiful little princess (superhero) face by the soft glow of her "monster-repelling" night-light. I sit next to her bed in the rocking chair sneaking glimpses of her intense little face and wondering what mysteries she's contemplating as she makes her way towards sleep.

That is, when she's not telling me EXACTLY what she's thinking ;)

I love it.

And, Evie's First Haircut!

We cut her hair! We said fairly recently that we weren't planning on it, but we did it!

And I almost cried.

I mean, look at those gorgeous locks! And her pretty baby curls that are lost forever D: If only her hair ALWAYS looked like that. She hasn't been letting us brush it or do anything to style it at all lately, so we decided she might look like less of a wild forest child with a haircut.

And the results:

Super cute, in my opinion :) The lady asked if we wanted to keep some, and I said yes, hoping she'd keep a lock, with a curl... But she just picked some up off the floor and wound it up into a loop and taped it to a card that said "baby's first haircut", lol. Had I known, I probably would have cut some myself, but oh well!

She looks so grown up with her short hair (or "short-cut", as she calls it)!

Declan's First Haircut!

Oh, the things you have to deal with when you have a boy...

Like haircuts, for instance. It's been over three years and I have not once had to worry about Evie's hair, but we really needed to do something about Declan's:

It was getting a little out of control.

So, we went to get it cut...

He was VERY unsure about the whole process, but honestly did way better than I thought he would.

And afterward we let him eat the sucker they gave him, so he was quite satisfied in the end ;)

The Curse of the Birthday Date...

I'm starting to think we should just forget my birthady every year.

See, last year Karl arranged everything for us to go on a birthday date. He got a babysitter, we dropped Evie off, and then we realized I had forgotten my wallet, and so had he. We drove all the way home and Karl just ran in and got his so I wouldn't have to get out of the car and run up and down all those stairs with my huge pregnant body.

Then, we drove to Red Robins, and on the way the FedEx people finally called me back (they SAID they had delivered a package we had ordered for my birthday, but it was no where to be found!). Before we went in, Karl offered to call the FedEx people back for me since he knew how much I wanted that package and how much I hate calling people. He thought it would be a quick call, but he and the guy helping him got put on hold and he spent like 40 minutes on the phone! The guy even said that it NEVER takes this long and he had no idea why we got put on hold so long. During this time we got seated and ordered, but realized that since I hadn't grabbed MY wallet, I didn't have my ID and therefore the restaurant wouldn't honor my coupon for a free burger, which was the main reason we went to that particular restaurant...

Not the best birthday date, and not for lack of trying on my poor hubby's part. Definitely a fluke though, right??

Well, this year, we went on our date the weekend before my birthday because Karl is going to be completely swamped on my actual birthday, and next Saturday is Valentines Day, which makes it difficult to find a place that's not exceedingly busy. So, we dropped kids off at my parents' house in North Orem and headed to Kneaders down in the Riverwoods (very east and center st. ish in Orem). We stood around for awhile trying to decide what to order (we'd never been there before and we are both incredibly indecisive!). Finally we picked what we wanted, ordered, and I started rumaging through my purse looking for my wallet to pay for our meal.

It wasn't there. Karl didn't have his either.

Seriously. What the what? The last place I remember having my wallet was at the creamery the day before; Declan was getting into my purse and I saw him grab the wallet, but in our rush to get everyone out the door, I didn't check to make sure it was still there.

So, we drove all the way back to our house in North West Provo (like a 15 minute drive) to get Karl's wallet (which he thought to make sure he grabbed, but then didn't). Then we drove to the Kneaders in Provo. I was very hungry by this point. Karl called the creamery for me (sound familiar?) but they didn't have my wallet and suggested that we call the Wilk to see if it had been taken there. Annnd the the lost and found was closed that day.

We ate, and by the time the whole debacle was over, we had to just rush back to pick up the kiddos...


I'm just really thinking I've offended the birthday gods or something; the wallet gods at the very least!

Sheesh.

Here's hoping we can appease them before next year!

Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam!

Today was Evie's first day of primary! Where in the world does the time go?

I was worried about how she'd take the change since she just barely turned three, and since she just started enjoying nursery on her own. She has been anxious about these sorts of things in the past, but she did very well today!

She looked a little nervous when I left her sitting in the primary room (which was bustling with people and kids trying to figure out new classes) but I walked past a couple times to check on her and she seemed fine. She even stood up to do "head, shoulders, knees, and toes" in opening exercises, which was big, because she doesn't generally like to jump right in on things in new situations.

During relief society Declan was being too noisy so we walked in the halls and when we walked past the sunbeam classroom I heard a voice I would know anywhere belting "Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam" at the very top of her lungs. It was adorable... I hope her teachers appreciated it ;)

I can't believe my baby girl is already in primary! Sending her off to nursery was hard enough!