I am thankful

I talk about being thankful a lot because I have a lot to be thankful for. I am thankful for my family and for my friends, for my home, for the fact that there is food in the kitchen, clothes in the closet, books on the shelves and peace in my heart. I am thankful that God has brought me to where I am today.

I went to Women of Faith with some friends this weekend, and it was a great experience, a real time of encouragement and empowerment, a wonderful reminder of all He has done for me and all that I can do for His people. I know that He has amazing plans for me, and I have a feeling they might be kind of big. We will see.

What have I been up to lately?

1. Listening to this song. I've heard it on the radio many times and I got to see it performed LIVE today. It was powerful! Check it out: You Are I Am

2. We've decided to sponsor a child through World Vision. We've talked about it before and then the WOF conference sealed the deal and last night we chose 5-year-old Yerlyn from Costa Rica, who loves drawing, just like another little girl I know. I am so excited about this.

3. I've been trying to reduce my number of commitments in order to make a bigger impact in the most important areas of my life. It is freeing.

4. I have been teaching Lexi at home. Did I mention I am homeschooling her this year? Well, I am. More about that in future posts perhaps. We are giving it a test drive, using a few different curricula and doing Pre-K/Kindergarten. I mostly love it so far. Right now we are working on reading and writing mostly, and she is also taking an Intro to the Stage class and checking out every single bug that comes within 10 feet of her. She says she wants to be an entomologist when she grows up. I feel really blessed to have this time with her and with Lydia.

5. Reading! I am reading again and it feels so right! I just reread Think: Straight Talk for Women to Stay Smart in a Dumbed-Down World and I loved it even more than the first time I read it (which was when Lydia was just a few weeks old, so my brain probably wasn't in on it too much then). It has inspired me not only to read more, but also to start reading the news. So now I've got NPR and USAToday apps and I am following things outside my four walls and feeling informed.


I hope this finds you well, my friends. Blogger tells me that a few people are reading this, or maybe that is just me re-reading my own writing for errors ;)  I want you to know that whatever you are going through right now...won't last forever. You are loved. Don't forget that!

Musical Interlude

Happy Saturday!

I just wanted to share a couple of my great songs that were really important to me this past winter. Hope you like 'em!

Song of Hope - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wz3vyyy01aw

Desert Song - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjutYdo6opI



And I especially like this one right now:

Hello, My Name Is - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZuJWQzjfU3o

That's about it for now.

Annnnngggggziiiiiiiieeeeeeety

Anxiety. I have trouble with this word, because I pronounce it "aing ziety" but that doesn't really make sense based on the letters. Should I be saying it differently? Like "ann ziety"? or "ainks iety"? Maybe that's it. Well crap. Either way, the English language is pretty dumb. Not gonna lie.

Annnnnngziiiiiiiiiiiietty. What is it all about? I'm not a doctor so I'm not getting into the clinical definition, cuz I will probably mess that up, but I will share my experiences with this awkward word.

The first time I felt anxiety (and knew that's what it was) was when Lydia was about 10 months old. I'd stopped nursing her and I think that caused hormones to do a crazy dance and explode on me. That's how it felt, anyway.  So I felt kind of gross and weird one evening and just went to bed, hoping to sleep it off. Then I woke up around 4am and felt like I was going to throw up. So into the bathroom I went.  I didn't throw up but I felt horrible. The more I woke up, the more I started to worry. What the heck was going on? My heart was pounding, I could barely catch my breath, and I felt nauseous.  To tell the truth, I felt like I was dying. I wondered if I was having a heart attack or something. I really felt like something terrible was going to happen to me.

So I woke Tim up and told him I thought something bad was happening and I was scared. I described what I was feeling and my wonderful psychology major husband told me (from the bed, because he was unconcerned) that it sounded like I was having a panic attack. I'd never had anything like that happen to me before, and I really felt like there was a good chance I was going to die right there in my unfinished bathroom. It got a whole lot worse, and then, just like that, it was gone. Over. I felt normal again, and kind of embarrassed, because I freaked out there for apparently no reason.

That's the thing I've learned about panic attacks. Unfortunately, I've had a couple more since then. If you've never had one, I don't recommend starting. If you have, then you know what I mean. They suck, and you can't help it. At the time, even though it makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, you feel like you are doomed, like you are dying. You try to convince yourself that you will be fine, that there's really nothing to be worried about, but there's this little tiny thought in the back of your head asking, "What if I'm wrong?" and it just spirals out of control from there. People have asked me, "Well, WHY were you so anxious? What were you panicking about?" but that's just it- there is no good answer, at least not for me. There's not been some specific thing I've consciously been worried about. I mean, one woke me up in the night for crying out loud! It was crazy.

I did go to the doctor after this initial middle of the night panic attack. It wasn't a doctor I've ever seen before, so I didn't feel super great about it. She prescribed a medication that I was really nervous about, and I never filled the prescription. I was worried about how it might affect my ability to take care of my kids. I figured the panic attack was just some sort of hormonal issue linked to my stopping nursing and I tried to just pay attention to how I was feeling and keep my family in the loop.

I continued to go to my support group and I continued to call my problem anger, because that's what it looked like to me. I continued to feel better and learn some techniques for dealing with what I was feeling, and I leaned on God more than ever to help me through it. I was amazed at how much better I felt just knowing that there was a group of people out there who loved me just the way I was, despite my brokenness, and who were also broken and working toward bettering themselves. I felt accountable to my friends in the group, yet loved unconditionally as well. The cool part about the group for me was that I got to know people first by learning about their struggles, and then by discovering all of the other beautiful parts of who they were.  This is backwards from most other relationships I've had in my life. Usually, I've gotten to know people on the surface only to slowly uncover their quirks and "issues" (for lack of better word) but with these friends, I knew their struggles first and their triumphs and other characteristics next. It's been awesome, really. To love others despite their flaws and be loved and accepted despite mine.

That's part of the reason why I share this story with you and with others. Will you still love me despite my flaws? I'm at a point in my life where I am seeking deep, unconditional relationships. I want to understand my loved ones and for them to understand me. I am not afraid to share who I am because I know that I am loved by many just the way I am, most importantly, by Jesus. I want to spend my life, my time, my energy, building healthy relationships with those I care about and who care about me.  I don't have time to pretend to be someone I'm not, or to act a certain way so others will like me. I don't want you to feel like you have to pretend to be a certain way for me to love you. I want the people that I love to feel like they can share who they are with me and be loved.  I am trying to live my life to be pleasing to God.

"The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart." 1 Samuel 16:76

Thank goodness for this. God looks at my heart, not at my money or the fact that I can't dress myself well, or the grime in my kitchen. He won't judge me because I don't have it all together on any given day. He knows me better than anyone else because he created me to be me. It's a relief, really. I don't want to spend time and energy trying to fit into society's mold of what I am supposed to be. Ain't nobody got time for that.

About a year after my first panic attack, I decided to make another appointment to see my doctor. I'd shared part of my story with a friend, and she told me that she'd had a similar experience and that medication had helped her immensely. It's funny. You'd think that when I first started noticing something was wrong, after Lydia was born, that I would have sought my doctor's advice. Actually, at that point in time, I didn't even think that I could have had any sort of chemical problem. I just kind of felt that I was failing at being a mom. Others made me feel like I should suck it up, have it all together...but I couldn't. I thought it was just because I wasn't good enough.

But after speaking with my friend, I considered for the first time that maybe, just maybe, there was another issue. So I went to see my doctor, and I told her all about how I'd been feeling and about my anger, my group, the whole nine yards. And as I started talking to her, I started to realize my problem wasn't anger. I heard myself telling her how overwhelmed I felt, even about the littlest, dumbest things. And she heard it too. She said, "I don't think you have an anger problem, I think you are experiencing anxiety." And it was like a light bulb came on. And I knew she was right. I wasn't an angry person. Despite the fact that I'd had issues with yelling and screaming, it wasn't because I was angry. It was because I was suffering from some crazy anxiety. I felt overwhelmed, sometimes more legit reasons and other times, not so much. But hearing the doctor legitimize what was happening to me was empowering. She said it could be a chemical thing from the birth of my daughter, it could be something else, but that there was medication to try to see if it would alleviate any of my issues.

I feel like my life has been given back to me. I feel like a new version of my "old self". The easygoing person I once was has returned, and I love it. I still lean on God a lot, and try not to compare myself to others, or listen when they try to tell me how I should be, or how they are or were, but I also know that there are some crazy chemicals in my brain that needed an attitude adjustment.

I marvel when I think- how long would I have struggled if I hadn't been willing to share my story? If I hadn't owned up that yes, I needed help, I wouldn't have found my group. If I hadn't found my group, I wouldn't have leaned on God. If I hadn't shared the truth about the group and my issues with my friend, I wouldn't have made an appointment with my doctor, and I wouldn't be feeling the relief and peace that I am now.

I'm not sure what the future holds for me, but I know that I am not afraid, because God is with me. I'm not afraid to share my story, because maybe, by sharing my story, I am changing someone's life for the better, just as my life has been changed by the stories of others. God has a plan for me, just as he has a plan for each of his children. Sometimes, we are shaped by the hard parts. Anxiety has been a hard part for me, but it has shaped me and changed me for the better. And that is something to celebrate, not something to hide.

I just want you to remember this: God does not look at us the same way we look at each other. He doesn't judge us by the cleanliness of our houses, by our mistakes, or by our shortcomings. When he looks at us, he sees his beautiful, broken children who need his love and his healing. He loves us just the way we are. Whatever issues we have that are too scary to share with others? He can take them all. He wants to take them all. Thank goodness.

Part 2: I don't know what to call this part

Sorry for the delay. I guess it was kind of a cliff hanger. Oops. It is hard to get this story into words.

It has been 9 months since I attended my first meeting of Celebrate Recovery, and I am not even sure where to start explaining the journey that I've been on and where it has taken me. Wow.

What should I tell you? What's important here?

I could tell you that through this group, my life has changed.
I could tell you that I have my anger under control now, and have found out that it was actually anxiety at the heart of everything.
I could tell you that I am a better mom than I've ever been before, and a better wife too.
I could tell you that I am a person filled with joy, hope, and peace. So much peace.
I could tell you that I have searched my soul, admitted my shortcomings, and am no longer ashamed to admit that I am less than perfect. 
I could tell you that I have met the most amazing people, friends to walk the journey with.
I could tell you how I've been humbled, over and over.
I could tell you how I have delved into hurts from my past to uncover how they have shaped me and how I can give the hurts to Jesus for healing.
I could tell you about the amazing music at my group.
Or about the free pizza.
Or the fact that the group has changed into something even more amazing than it was before, a place for all people to move forward in their lives.

If you want to chat more about the group, please just let me know. I would love to share more with anyone who thinks they might like to take one step forward today. 

The pastor of the group once spoke about how we can share our stories with others. He explained that we can't explain it all, we won't necessarily be able to outline, step by step, how we got from point A to point B. But we can say this: I don't know what it is, but I know that once I was blind, and now I can see.

So that's what I am going to say: I can't explain exactly how I was healed, or how I transformed from a struggling, anxious person into a peaceful person, or what all went down with that...but I do know that once I was blind, and now I can see. It's all because of Jesus. And whatever words I do say, will surely not be able to do that justice.

I just got back from a meeting of the group and celebrated that it has been 9 months since I surrendered to Jesus, 9 months since I last felt completely hopeless, 9 months since I first stepped out of the darkness and into the light.  It may not sound like a big deal to you, but it is. For realz. When I first walked into this group, I felt completely hopeless, helpless, and that I was a bad person who was never going to be the person I'd always dreamed of becoming. I felt sad and alone. But all of that has changed! My life has changed completely over the past 9 months and I want to shout it from the roof tops! I celebrate that. Thank God I was able to put my pride and fear aside and take the first step toward becoming a better me.

So, 9 months. Pregnancy lasts nine months. It is sometimes painful, somewhat mysterious (just think about what's really going on in there...weird) and it takes time. Many pregnant women lose their patience and just want the baby to get the heck out! But, it takes time. It takes time for something so monumental to happen, for a glob of cells to turn into a tiny human. Really, how amazing is that process?

 I suppose it is similar to recovery, really. It's part of God's plan. It takes time. It ain't always pretty. But God can take one thing, whether it be a blob of cells, or a broken person, and turn it into something brand new, a baby, or a brand new person. And I guess that's the best way I can describe what has happened to me. I was angry, overwhelmed and lost, and now I am joyful, peaceful and confident that God has a pretty sweet plan for my life. He transformed me. I was reborn, in a way. In order to do that, I had to realize that I couldn't fix myself, no matter how hard I tried. I had to be humble enough to say, yep, I need help. I can't do it anymore. I need help. I need something bigger. I need God. And then really, once I surrendered it all to Him, once I gave my life to Him and said, HERE! I can't do it any more, I am putting it in your hands! He said: finally! He knows the plans He has for me, plans for hope and a future. But I had to let go of being in control of everything and let Him do his work.

What does that mean? What does it mean to let God do his work? To me, it means getting out of the way. It means to read his word (aka the Bible) and to pray to him for guidance, and to let him direct my steps. Not myself. Not my family or my friends or society or peer pressure or the media (cuz they like doing that kind of thing I think?) but just Him. I just had to rest in Him. I had to stop comparing myself to others (and their Facebook selves) and I had to stop hearing the voices of people in my head judging me for the choices I made. I had to realize that I am worth dying for- Jesus died for me, knowing that I am a broken person, I'm imperfect, I have sinned and will sin again...but it doesn't matter, because he loves me anyway. Just the way I am. With unwashed hair, dust covering my living room, piles everywhere, and pizza for dinner AGAIN. He loves me JUST the way I am.

And he loves you too. Seriously. JUST the way you are. Even though you are not perfect. Even though you make mistakes. Even though you are hurting. You are loved by God. Right now, even if you don't understand what that means.

It's a really great feeling. I feel so free, so lighthearted, so peaceful. Troubles will continue to come my way, but God is there for me. Even when things don't go my way. Life will go on. Life here on earth is SO fleeting, so short. It doesn't matter that we don't have much money, or that my kid sometimes says bad words in front of old ladies, or that I forget things, or say the wrong words, or make mistakes. It won't matter any more, because this life is fleeting, and much better things are waiting for me on the other side.

So what I want to tell you is that if you are reading this, wishing something would change, worried about an aspect of your life, embarrassed of a secret, unable to stop a behavior, just struggling, I want you to know that there is hope for you too. I am a changed person today. You can be a changed person too. You just have to take one step forward.

A Beautiful Journey - Part 1: "Confessions"

Well, the time has come. I am going to do some sharing. Grab yo' popcorn. It's probably going to be a jumpy ride because I am not sure how to neatly organize it. I've also been debating whether I am ready to share this much detail with others yet. I'm being vulnerable here. It's a messy journey. But I feel that I am ready to share some hard things with you, because in sharing my story, perhaps you can find something that will change your story in a positive way.

~~~~~~

Where to begin? I have shared about how Tim & I became a family of 2, and shortly thereafter, a family of 3. Then, two years and eight months after that, we became a family of four when this little treasure joined us:

I was crying in this picture because I was in awe of her. She was beautiful, and super chubby, which surprised me because Lexi was and still is very thin, like her dad. But I cried a lot in the days and months to come, too.

People told me that going from one to two kids would be hard. Really hard. And I believed them. I figured I would be exhausted. But I had no idea how overwhelmed I would be. It was hard!

It started almost immediately after we brought her home. Having a newborn is tough. Nursing was rough for the first 10 days or so. I don't want to get graphic, but it was painful. I knew I wanted to do it, and that it would get better, so I powered through it and ended up nursing her for about 10 months when we were both done. But that first week or do...was tough. I cried just about every time she ate, which was about every 2 hours. It sucked.

On top of that, there was the sleep deprivation factor. When you have your first baby, they tell you to sleep when the baby sleeps, so I did. But when you have one baby and one toddler, you can't always do that. I am a person who does not do well without sleep. I recall bawling my eyes out many times just because I was SO TIRED.

Then there was the guilt. Not gonna lie, there were many times where Tim would feed Lexi breakfast and then put in a movie for her before he left for work so I could try to get a little more sleep. My poor kiddo's life was turned upside down. She went from having me play with her and take her places all day long to having me a very cranky, emotional zombie. And I felt like crap about it, because I wanted to be the mom I was before Lydia was born, but I couldn't. I no longer had the resources (ie sleep) to do so. Looking back, I can say that becoming a big sister was a very good thing for Lexi, but in the moment, I felt guilty.

So yes, having a new baby was hard. It is hard. Everyone who has a new baby can tell you that :) I get that. It ain't supposed to be sunshine and rose petals. I wasn't expecting that. But I also wasn't expecting how it affected me.

 Lydia's birth changed something about me, or brought something out in me that I hadn't seen before, and that really sucked. Even months later when she and I were sleeping better, I felt anxious. I'd never felt anxious before. I would lose my temper with Lexi over really dumb things. I would scream and cry and spank and just freak out, scaring my kid and myself. I don't know if it was PPD or hormonal changes or what, but it really sucked. I would just feel completely overwhelmed about the littlest things and feel anxiety building up in me until I exploded into an adult temper tantrum. After it happened, I felt like such a jerk. What kind of a terrible person would scream at a 3 year old about something so dumb? I can't even think of any examples any more, but most of my outbursts were unwarranted, undeserved.

So the guilt deepened. Here I had two beautiful little girls, two sweet and precious babies, and I was a monster. I tried so hard to fix myself, to take deep breaths, walk away, count to 10, all of the strategies the parenting books and magazines and doctor's office hand outs suggested. They would work for a while, a few days or weeks, but then, I'd blow up again. I knew that having a 3 year old with a new baby in the house was going to cause the 3 year old to act out. But I also knew that my reactions were way over the top. And I knew that I didn't want to be that kind of mom. I was out of control. But I was afraid to tell anyone about it, lest they judge me, or worse.

I think the saddest part of this story is that I let the feelings of guilt and shame weigh me down for so long that this all went on for over a year. About 16 months. I felt ashamed of myself and hopeless, because I couldn't figure out what to do. I was scared that I would lose control and someone would get hurt. I was scared that Tim would give up on me. I had shared with him what was going on and he was the most amazing and supportive husband I could ever ask for. I can't even imagine being in his position, having your spouse come to you and confide that she had anger problems that she was taking out on your kids. I felt like I was letting him down, letting my kids down, letting myself down. I loved all of them and I wanted better for them than that...better that who I had become.

Tim stood by my side through it all. He loved me, supported me, and was more understanding that I ever could have expected. More understanding than I think I could have been. I started researching support groups, calling phone numbers, trying to find help. It was a humbling and scary experience. I was afraid of what others would think, so I didn't tell anyone. I kept searching but couldn't find anything that seemed like a good fit.

I hit my breaking point one evening when we were decorating our Christmas tree. The girls were having a blast, wearing their footed pajamas and digging into boxes of decorations. It had been a good day. But for some reason, anxiety started to build up. I started getting frustrated with Lexi, who was overly tired and no longer listening. I kept asking her to stand in front of our tree for a picture, but she wouldn't. She blatantly defied me, and I reached out and popped her on the back, right in front of Tim. In front of our beautifully lit tree, with Christmas music playing in the background. I hit her and she cried in Tim's arms, and I cried, and that was the end. I ruined a perfectly good day because I couldn't get control of how I was feeling. That was rock bottom. It remains a dark memory.

The good news about rock bottom is that, from there, you go up.

How do you know when you've hit rock bottom? It's when you put your shovel down and stop digging.

 I found help in the form of a group called Celebrate Recovery. It's a 12-step Christian recovery program for people dealing with hurts, habits and hang ups. (Here's the website for info about the general program: http://www.celebraterecovery.com/ ) I am not sure exactly how I discovered this group, but the chapter I attended met at a local church. I scoured the website for as many details as possible and thoroughly contemplated whether it would be a good fit for me. I actually recall seeing a flyer about the group at the library once a few months before this point, but feeling like I wasn't "messed up enough" to go. Ah, pride.

I actually attended my first meeting on November 29th, 2012, before the Christmas tree incident. I was terrified to go and I cried almost the whole time I was there. I mostly cried because I was in the right place. The group is there to help people struggling with all kinds of problems, from anxiety to alcohol, depression to divorce to drugs, to family members with addictions, and more. It was scary to admit that I needed to be there just as much as the people standing beside me. The format of the evening was listening to some worship music, a sermon from a pastor, and then breaking out into small share groups. The kind where you say "Hi, I'm Melissa and I'm struggling with anger" and everyone says "Hi, Melissa." Yep. That kind of group. On that first night in November, I attended the newcomers group where the pastor explained everything about the logistics of the group, what to expect, etc. He said something that I have quoted many times...

"If you think the people around you need Jesus more than you do, you're experiencing pride. If you think you need Jesus more than the people around you, you're experiencing shame."

Wow. That hit home. I'd actually felt on both sides of that spectrum before, but had been unable to put it into words so eloquently.

Still, after that first night, I wasn't sure if it was a good fit for me. Did I really need that much help? It wasn't until after the Christmas tree incident that I realized the answer: yes, I did. I had lost hope that my life would ever be okay again, that I'd be able to "get it together" and be the mom, wife and person I'd always dreamed of being.

But this group, Celebrate Recovery, showed me that that was not the case. That I was God's daughter, and he had not forgotten about me. That is how I started on the road to recovery. And it has been a beautiful journey indeed.

I'm still here!

I am still here, and a really long post is brewing. I just have to find the time and the energy to get it out :) The last 3 or so weeks have been crazy. Between my beautiful friend's wedding yesterday (congrats Kayla!!) and all the July birthdays in the Franzen family (including my own) things have just been hectic and we've fallen out of routine. The children are off their nap schedules (good heavens!) this mama is staying up late thinking about weddings, needing to exercise more, friends moving away, VBS, cleaning out the hall closet, Bible study, how to add more hours to the day and creeping closer to 30. Also, there is a ridiculous mountain of laundry to contend with, as well as a full-blown toysplosion that spans multiple rooms. I am physically and emotionally exhausted, but really happy and blessed too. As always.

I guess I just wanted to say hey :) I am still here! I'm mustering up the courage and energy to type out something heartfelt and revealing.

In the mean time, here are just a couple of things (people) that I am thankful for:

 This lovely and whimsical girl is my dear friend Kayla. Yesterday, we celebrated her wedding! I think Kayla has been dreaming about her wedding since the time we met when she was 16 and I was 17, so it was really exciting to share her special day with her and see her dreams becoming reality. This girl used Pinterest and a hot glue gun to create an absolutely gorgeous wedding, straight out of a story book! I am so blessed to call this beautiful woman my friend. We have had a ton of fun together over the past 9 years and have shared an assortment of experiences ranging from Walmart craft kits to singing karaoke and scrapbooking to engagements and babies and hard times too. The funny thing is that I met this sweet friend in the dining room of a nursing home, of all places. I trained her on her first day as a server and impressed her by dropping an entire tray of glasses in the dining room. She's been there for me through it all and Kayla is one of those friends that I can not see in a while and then pick right back up with where we left off. I know I could call her any time of day and she would be there for me. She's a diamond in the rough and I love her very much! Congratulations on your wedding, my dear! Looking forward to future shenanigans :)

This is my friend Jessica with her husband and daughter. I am so blessed to have met Jess a few summers ago during VBS at our church. Sometimes in life, God gives you friends that you can share all of yourself with- the good parts and the not-so-good parts- and Jess is one of those friends. She's a gal that I love to have hanging out in my kitchen all day long, talking about every topic under the sun while our kids play (and occasionally hit each other with shovels). This woman once created lunch for our kids using a bare pantry and the milk from a sippy cup. That's talent, folks! She's been a friend that I can confide in that loves me even after seeing my dirty laundry (literally and figuratively!) and I am so appreciative of that. Jess is moving away next weekend and while I am going to miss her crazy bad, I am so excited for her and her family as they embark on a new journey together. I love you, Jess! Can't wait to hear and share in this new chapter of your life!

I am so blessed that God has given me these friends, and countless others, to share my life with. I may not have much money, a big house, or fancy clothes, but I am rich in blessings and for that I am so grateful.

Oh, one more thing.

This guy here. Still thankful, still blessed by his perpetual love, support and understanding. He played single dad yesterday so that I could spent the day with my friend and I really appreciate that. Also, you guys all know how I have a talking problem, right? As in, I can't stop? Well this guy here patiently listens to me, and a lot of the time he is just getting ready to go to bed when I decide it's time to dive into a deep, time-consuming topic or rant. I just want Tim to know how much I appreciate that! I love you . And thank you, for everything.

Thankful...Wednesday.

Today was one of those days where things just seemed...overwhelming. The day got off to a rushed start, I didn't take the time for prayer and exercise that usually grounds me...and I just felt tired and blah and really sad, too, because I found out that one of my amazing friends is moving away soon. I felt like I didn't have any of the right answers for the kids, spent the rest of the grocery money for the month (and there is an entire week of July remaining) and I just couldn't get out of the funk. Not gonna lie, I cried a lot. Hormones are probably involved in some way.

Today is also my baby's birthday. Lydia is 2 today and I really have no idea how. Lexi was insanely jealous of the attention and gifts Lydia got, and made it known in a loud and irritating way. I didn't have my usual patience to deal with it. There's a load of laundry that has been in my dryer for days, Tim is out of undershirts, dishes and Play-doh are everywhere, and I need to throw together a birthday party on Saturday. Exhausting. I tried to flip through my Bible a few times but I just wasn't feeling it. Nothing spoke to me. But, as the day drew to a close, this quote kept going through my head:

“Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.” 

I felt defeated today, but tomorrow is a new day. A fresh new period of 24 hours for me to start over with. Tomorrow also happens to be my birthday. It has a lot of potential.

No matter where I am, what I'm doing, how I'm feeling, God is there for me to lean on. Nothing is too big or too small for him. I have to say it again: nothing is too small for him. That means I can pray about my funk, my hormones, my kid chewing on the woodwork in her room, the laundry, and feeling lonely. I can pray about anything, and he hears me. He is there with me when I decide to try again. I'm never really alone.

I recently read that in tough times and struggles, I need to praise God. One way to praise God is to give thanks for all the blessings he has given me. Cause there are a lot. Instead of dwelling on the crappy stuff that is bothering me, I am going to take a few minutes to be thankful for my blessings. It probably would sound nicer if it were "Thankful Thursday" but today is Wednesday. Sorry.


 I am thankful for my happy, healthy 2-year-old. I was pretty nervous about having another baby, but the second I laid eyes on her, I loved her more than I could have ever imagined.

 She was due the day after my birthday, and came instead the day before. She knew better than to steal my birthday ;)

I love this little girl! She is a little ray of sunshine and gives the best hugs. I am so blessed to be her mom. Happy birthday, Lydia! You are not a baby anymore and while I don't miss those long nights when you cried until I ran the vacuum cleaner, I can see you growing up before my eyes and it is bittersweet, little lady.

And this little girl too. I am so thankful for Lexi and so blessed that she is my daughter. She has given me a run for my money lately in so many different ways...but she is happy, healthy, sweet and smart. She saved up her hard earned quarters to buy Lydia a present from the Dollar Tree and wrapped it herself in special paper that she decorated. I am so proud of how kind and thoughtful she is. And the girl knows how to dance. She is so special, unafraid to be herself, and passionate about life. Sure, she may do things that I can't explain, understand, or change...but she is my little girl and I will always love her.

I am thankful for my friends. The ones that are in this picture, and the ones that aren't. Thanks for loving me just the way I am. Sometimes I am awkward, embarrassing, overly emotional and just plain weird. I am really blessed to have friends who love me through thick and thin, support me through hard times, love my children, teach me how to properly scramble eggs, dress myself, scrapbook, and let my hair down every so often :) I love you, friends. Thanks for loving me back.

I am thankful for this man.

I get to spend the rest of my life with this amazing guy. If you aren't jealous, you should be. He is always there to listen to me cry, complain, or act like a 5 year old, without judging. He loves me for who I am and I am so thankful that I have him. He puts up with me, and looks good while doing so.

I am blessed in countless other ways. Thank you, God, for trusting me with so many gifts.

Tomorrow is a new day. I will try again.