It's been a while...

I've been seriously neglecting this old blog of mine, and it's really been bothering me lately. But the thing is, when I think of something that I want to say I usually just spout it off in a long-winded facebook post instead of taking the time to sit down and actually write about it.

I'm hoping to change that. But like anything else, I have to make time for it to happen.

I asked for suggestions as to write about the other night, and my running seemed to be a pretty common theme - which is interesting considering that the last time I blogged anything, it was about running.

I generally don't think of my running as anything special. It's something that I started doing maybe 7 years ago, and mainly because I had people tell me that I was too fat and lazy to ever do it (no, those people are not in my life anymore). I didn't really take it seriously until about the last 2-3 years or so - and now it's something that is more important to me than I ever realized it could be.

Back in 2011, when I was just starting to get into running, I did my first half-marathon. I walked most of it, but I did it. And later that summer, I looked something like this.....

This picture actually just surfaced. The kids and I had gone on TMOART:11 (back before The Dude existed) and one of them snapped this picture of me coming down the steps from the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. They were using disposable cameras, and we just got them developed the other day - so seeing this picture was a shock.

Even though I've seen numerous pictures of me in a less than stellar light, my size still shocks me at times. I never really thought that I had gained that much weight, but I had.

I don't talk about my depression much (if ever) but if I'm being totally honest, my weight gain was a direct result of it. The stress of two failed marriages, being a single mother of 5 kids, and not having any clue how I was going to pay my bills got to me. I didn't do anything to stay active, and as anyone who has ever been poor knows - crappy food is way cheaper than healthy stuff. So I ate the cheap crap and tried to feed my kids the better stuff.

Eventually, the funk started to lift. I started walking more. And then I started running a little bit. I'd walk a block, then run a block, walk a block, run a block. And then I'd walk a block and run two blocks, then three, then four. Soon, I was running more than I was walking, but I still wasn't picking up speed. But eventually, I got to the point that I started getting faster.

And then I started really enjoying the races. The adrenaline rush is like no other. And the running community is fantastic - it doesn't matter if you're the first runner or the last walker to cross the line - someone will be there waiting for you and cheering for you as you cross the finish.

One of my favorite things about running is that it doesn't have to cost a fortune. When I started, I wore my normal shorts and tshirts and cheap running shoes. I used a free app on my phone to track my distance (RunKeeper - and I still use it to this day) and I didn't even have anything to play music. I just ran.

As time went on and I started getting more into it, I did buy some specific clothes - mostly tights and compression shorts because face it  - unless you have a thigh gap, chafing is real. And it hurts. And it makes you walk funny for days until it heals. (FYI - diaper rash ointment helps. You're welcome.)

Good shoes were my next major purchase - but it still took me a while to work up the guts to pay more than $50 for a pair of sneakers. So far my favorite pair is my current pair - the Brooks Ghosts that I bought after running the Nebraska State Fair Half Marathon last fall. But I know that I'm going to need to replace them soon, and the cost of a new pair scares me. Because I'm cheap.

I did splurge this year and I bought a membership to the Y. I didn't really want to spend the money, but with the crazy Kansas weather, I need a way to train indoors. The kids can go with me and they can swim or shoot hoops or play ping pong or do whatever they want to do to keep themselves amused while I pound out some miles on the treadmill or the elliptical or whatever other torture device I decide to use that day. Emily and I have a goal right now to run every day - even if it's just a mile - and so far we've been able to stick to it (and I have this nifty calendar on my bedroom wall to track my progress toward that goal).

As of right now, I think I'm only signed up for 3 races this year - both of the Prairie Fire Half Marathons in Wichita (one in April and one in October) because those are my traditional races that I will always always do until I can't do them anymore, and the Stupid Cupid 2 mile run in Wichita that is in just a few weeks. I haven't signed up for any more yet because, let's face it - the races get expensive. There are several more that I plan to do, but they haven't opened up registration yet so I have to wait and see what happens financially between now and then.

I'm trying to work up the guts to do a full marathon, but I'm just not there yet.....

For the last couple of months of 2016, I all but gave up on running. I slipped into a downward spiral, and I struggled a lot more than I'd like to admit. I didn't do much of anything unless I had to do it for survival and I gained a bunch of weight back. It took a lot of soul-searching and willpower and sheer stubbornness to get me back out there again to do a run on New Year's Eve, but I did it. I think Emily and I did a mile. And then we set our goal to run daily. There have been days when she's had to almost literally drag me out of bed to go, but we've gone. And if she's over at her father's house she runs over there and I run here and we compare notes. Now there is a challenge going on here in our town and I'm participating in that - and so my competitive side is coming out and I'm starting to really enjoy it again. And thankfully the scale is starting to show it too.

I think that the thing that amazes me the most is that at several points in my life, I had people telling me that I was too fat and lazy to ever run - and now people tell me that I have inspired them to run.

It's really kind of surreal.

It's hard.

A couple of weeks ago, I did a post about January and how it can be kind of an emotional month for me.

There are a lot of things going on in my life right now. Physically, mentally, emotionally - just a lot of stuff. Some minor, some major, some right in the middle.

I generally try to keep a pretty positive outlook on life. I'm the type of person to "act as if" and just push my way through when I feel like crap because most of the time, I have no choice in the matter so I might as well make the most of it. What I don't always admit is that it's hard.

Being a parent is hard.

Being a friend and girlfriend is hard.

Being a homeowner is hard.

Sometimes, just being is hard.

The past few weeks have been a struggle for me. I've been in a funk, and although it happens occasionally - this one was worse than usual. I still got up every morning and took care of the kids and did what I had to do, but that was pretty much it. I didn't do a whole lot around the house, I didn't go out and do anything fun and exciting, and I certainly didn't do anything that didn't absolutely have to be done. I made lists of things to do around the house, but at the end of the day I'd just throw them out because looking at lists that didn't have a single thing crossed off just made me feel worse.

Part of it has been the weather. Although the past few days have been nice, the cold weather just makes me feel blah. It makes me hurt and I don't want to do anything. Part of it is hormones, because you know, I'm a woman and I'm in my mid-40s and everything just has to get all sorts of out of whack right about now. Part of it is just normal everyday stress that is made worse by crappy weather and wacky hormones and my usual lack of sleep from trying to get everything done.

I lost it last night. I was exhausted after 2 full days of cutting down bushes and digging up stumps in front of the house, and I needed help. The kids were not cooperative and didn't do what I asked them to do, and I flipped. I locked myself in my bedroom and told them that getting everything done was up to them. At that point, I didn't care what happened, and I let them know it. I even took out some of my frustration on The Dude via a long text conversation.

Not knowing what to expect, I came out of my room several hours later. The boys had all gotten baths and were in bed, supper was cleaned up with the leftovers in the fridge, a load of towels had been dried and folded, stuff was ready for school, and more laundry was being done. They didn't do it without complaint though, and I heard quite a bit of grumbling about it (including a "you didn't do anything tonight, Mom" to which I snarked back "welcome to my world") - but they did it. We talked about it a little this morning, and they all agreed that had they been a bit more cooperative to start with, it wouldn't have resulted in my freak out.

Once I got everyone to school this morning, I came home and got busy. While I scrubbed bathrooms, I thought about everything. I contemplated how I really try to only talk about the good stuff here or on facebook. I always try to portray this image that everything is good and life is easy - but in reality, it's not. There are days or weeks where things really just plain suck - and while they're not pretty, they're nothing to be ashamed of. They're all a part of life, and trying to pretend that they don't exist doesn't really accomplish anything worthwhile and all I end up doing is bottling it all up until I finally flip out and go on a Mom Strike like I did last night. I need to get it through my thick head that it's ok to talk about the bad days.

It's ok to not be ok.

But the good news is that now that I had my freak out and took a break from everything, I feel a little more rejuvenated. I'm not ready to go out and take over the world (yet) but at least I'm actually crossing some things off of my list today. The Dude is planning on coming over and spending some much-needed time over the next few days, and hopefully we can use some of that time to get some things done around here and to relax together - both of which we haven't been able to do much of lately.

Why do I push?

I spent pretty much the entire day outside cutting firewood and cleaning up the corner of the yard and the firepit area. The general firewood area has needed to be cleaned up for a while, but the firepit area really needed it after I tore down the fence the other day - since I just chucked all of the old fence over the remaining fence into that area rather than dragging it all the way around and into the gate.

I got to work early this morning and started knocking stuff out fairly quickly. But as time went on, I started to get tired. After tearing part of the fence down two days ago, and tearing the old gate down yesterday, my body was just tired.

I stopped occasionally to catch my breath and move into the shade, and I'd occasionally check the notifications on my phone. There were a couple of notifications on the pictures that I had posted of the work that I've done, and there were some comments that were complimenting me on what I've accomplished.

In typical brain dump fashion, my thoughts started to go in a few different directions. I started thinking about different reactions that I've gotten to various accomplishments that I've posted about in the past. Everything from variations of "good job" to "you've inspired me because...." Those thoughts made me start thinking about why I post these kind of things.

It's not for attention. It's not for the virtual pats on the back. It's not to brag or to show off or to gloat or anything like that. Honestly, it's not for me at all.

Every now and then, I get a message from someone who says "I've felt so hopeless because of my situation, but then I see what you can accomplish and I know that you've been in my shoes and so if you can do it, so can I".

That is why I do it. That is why I post the things that I do.

For the person who has hit rock bottom and doesn't know it it's possible to get back up again.

For the person who is so broke that pennies found on the ground are hoarded like gold coins.

For the person who has gotten smacked around by an alcoholic partner one too many times.

For the person who battles depression and struggles to get out of bed and function.

For the person whose kids have said "I don't like you right now, so I'm moving out for a while."

For the person who is struggling in any way.

If by some chance, someone is inspired by the things that I do and post, then that is all that I need. That makes all of this work - and blogging about it - worth it. And it gives me a reason to get the work done - the inspiration that people get from looking at my work inspires me to do even more.

Pay it forward, one positive thought at a time.

If I can do it, anyone can.

Dear House...

I left you today.

When I found you, I was desperate. I had no place to go. I searched and searched to try to find a place that would work for my family, and I couldn't find anything. Finally, you came along. When the kids and I walked in and looked around, we knew right away that we could use you, even if it wasn't going to be very comfortable. The landlord was willing to work with a single mom with 5 kids and no income, even if it meant that he would have to wait for the rent payments to come through the homeless prevention program that was assisting me.

Emotionally, I was at an all-time low in my life. Depression had truly gotten the best of me, and I didn't know what I was going to do next. My church family moved us - seriously, they packed up our stuff and moved us because I just couldn't do it. Honestly, I don't know if they even realized the extent of the darkness surrounding me at that point in my life. Whether they did or not, they stepped up and rescued me.

I remember standing in the middle of the living room as people moved in and out, carrying boxes and bags and piling them up in any empty space they could find. When you were packed completely full, they started stacking stuff on the porches. I sobbed as the amount of stuff in such a tiny place seemed to swallow me alive.

It took what seemed like forever for me to get my act together and get things straightened up and organized. I donated tons of stuff to get rid of it and make room, because going from a 2 story 4 bedroom house with an office and tons of storage, to you with only 2 bedrooms and zero storage made downsizing not only necessary, but mandatory. It felt good to get rid of so much crap - both literally and figuratively, because as I got rid of some of it, I felt the emotional baggage go along with it.

As time went on, I started to see the light. I got my stuff organized and I got my feelings organized. I started living life again. I filed for divorce and waited patiently for it to become final, which would happen on my 40th birthday. And 20 days after that, my ex-husband died and I boarded one of the biggest, scariest, longest lasting emotional rollercoasters ever created. His death was the last thing that I ever wanted, the last thing I ever expected, and easily one of the hardest things that I have ever had to go through in my life.

I spent hours sitting at the table in your kitchen, dealing with Social Security and pensions and death benefits and bill collectors and the IRS, trying to make sense of it all. And when I couldn't focus anymore, I'd fall over on the futon in the corner of your living room and sleep for a few hours until I had to get up and face another day.

Within your walls, I started to rebuild my life. I started dating, and then I stopped to deal with the emotions of his death. And then I started to live again.

I helped my kids with their homework. I did their laundry and packed their lunches and baked their birthday cakes. I planted flowers and cut the grass and replaced light switches. I canned sand plums and strawberry jam and applesauce. I fixed the She-Beast time and time again in your driveway. I held my kids while they cried and I disciplined them when they needed it and kissed their boo-boos that they got from playing in the yard. I started dating this crazy guy and then fell in love with him and even got up the nerve to tell him that I loved him in the front room in the wee hours of the morning before a road trip to Kansas City to take a friend to the airport.

And through all of this, I learned so much about myself. I learned just how strong I can really be - and at the same time that I don't have to always be so strong. I learned that I can take care of myself and my family, but that it is also ok to ask for help once in a while - or to accept it when it is offered. I learned that if you want something bad enough, you can get it - even if it takes a lot of time, effort, and patience to get there.

As we've been packing up our lives and moving stuff out over the past few weeks, I've been hit with emotional waves more often than I'd care to admit. As much as I complained about how small you were and OMG Why Can't We Have A House With More Than One Toilet, I loved you dearly. You were there for me in so many ways, not just as a house, but as a home, a shelter, and a place to grow.

There are so many amazing memories that happened within your walls. But what I will remember most is that I found the most important thing in my life within your walls.

I found myself.

The Ghetto-esque House
Sept. 1, 2010 - March 7, 2014

There are days...

...when I seriously doubt my sanity.

...when I wonder if I'm really cut out for this whole motherhood thing.

...when my kids push me to the brink and I come *thisclose* to totally losing it.

...when it seems like the universe is out to get me and wants nothing more than to beat me down just a little bit harder.

...when all I want to do is crawl into bed and hide from the world.

I'm not going to lie. I'm going through a rough time right now. There are a lot of things that just aren't making my life very easy. There is so much drama right now that there are days when I seriously just want to run away from it all and hide somewhere warm and tropical with a fruity drink beer in my hand on a beach somewhere.

But the reality is that I can't do that. I can't go anywhere. I have to deal with the crap that is thrown at me - and as it's being thrown I have to decide if I want to catch it, drop it, or throw it back at someone. There are people who are making life difficult for me. There are situations that are beyond my control. There are choices to make and plans to implement and things to do - but somehow something always manages to get in the way.

Realistically - I know I'll get through it. I'm not sure how right now, but I know that I will. One, because I'm stubborn as hell and two, because I have no choice in the matter.

Kind of like my tulips that got frozen the other day - I was pretty sure that they were goners, but they survived. Maybe I need to take a lesson from the flowers.

Looking back...

If you pay attention to my facebook page at all, you might have noticed that I've been working on cleaning up my computer - I've been going through the past 5+ years of photos, deleting the crappy ones, and transferring the good ones over to flash drives. It's been a long process, and I'm nowhere near done yet. But I'm getting there.

Before I started...

Where I am now...

But of course, in order to do this, I have to go through every single folder of pictures and look at every single one. Luckily they're already pretty much grouped in order by what day I uploaded them from the camera, so I have just been going through them one day at a time.

I've been trying not to dwell on the content of the pictures so much. I'm a very sentimental person, and I can look at old pictures all day long - so I know that I have to really focus on the end goal here or it's going to take me forever to get this done. So far, I've gotten 2008 and 2009 off of my computer (except for a huge rogue folder of 2008 that I just found this morning, but I haven't touched that one yet).

Those were 2 very interesting years in my life. (If you're not familiar with the story, this post will explain a lot of it, and there are links in there that can lead you to other stories. Or you can just ask me. Seriously.)

In 2008 we were living in my old house and I was still married to my second husband. So there are a lot of pictures of him. I wouldn't say that I get sad looking at them - but I have caught myself saying "I wonder what would have happened if....." several times.

In 2009, I kicked him out. And my life fell apart in so many ways, but I didn't admit that for a long time. I don't think that even my closest friends realized how bad it was for me.

But you know what? Looking at those pictures from that time frame - wow, was it ever obvious.

This house - this little ghetto-esque house that we live in now - it gets messy. It gets dirty. It's not always clean and neat and organized. But for the most part, it's decent. We got rid of a lot of stuff when we moved (moving into a house that's less than half the size of your old one will force your hand in that department) and I do my best to keep it organized.

The pictures of the old house? Holy wow, how did we ever live like that? Seriously, it was filthy, and it was so obvious in those pictures. I mean it - I let it get dirty. And that's how it would stay.

Every now and then I'd go on a massive cleaning/organizing binge, and it would look good. For a day or two. And then I would just let everything slide again.

It's funny. I don't always think that I've come that far...but then I start looking back - really looking back - and I see the progress that I've made. I'm still not perfect. The house can still be a disaster at times, but the main difference now is that it might only be 2 or 3 days' worth of disaster, instead of months' worth of disaster. Seeing the actual photographic evidence of the change was truly eye opening for me and has really gotten my brain going back into overdrive again (oh yay).

I think I gave myself a virtual kick in the butt. If I could come this far already...... hmmmm...... might be time to go back to the notebook and write down some more plans.

Brain dump

So we all know that I've been having a bit of a rough time lately. It's life. Sometimes it just catches up with me and there's nothing that I can do about it, other than work through it and deal with it.

Yesterday, I got up and took the boys to school, and then came back home to get some things done. I started to work on some stuff, and then I got distracted (imagine that). Anyway, I got up from my desk, grabbed The Dude's mp3 player, my camera, my phone, a couple of bills that needed to be mailed, and my ATM card and I took off walking.

I've always loved the brick streets in this town.

I cranked up the  music and headed toward the post office - because for whatever reason, in my head it was more effective to mail the bills from the post office than it was from my own mailbox in my front yard. But, whatever. I walked to the post office and mailed them and then took off again.

I walked to The Dude's work and swiped his van keys from him and went and put some gas in it and got him a drink. I visited with him and his boss for a few minutes, and then I took off again.

As I walked, I didn't really focus so much on the scenery. I felt more like my brain was on a treadmill, trying to churn out thought after thought after thought. It was trying to work through all of the crap that has been handed to me lately and was trying desperately to make sense of even a fraction of it.

Honestly, as I walked, I pondered my blog and my page. I started to wonder if they were even worth the hassle anymore. I thought about hiding both of them for a time as I deal with everything that is happening. But in the end, I decided to keep them both, and to keep them both active. I decided that hiding them isn't going to solve anything, just like hiding myself away from the world isn't going to either. I need to just stay involved - whether it's with the kids' schools, or Scouts, or with friends and family, or whatever - I can't hide away like I've always done in the past. I need to continue to live my life. And I'm going to do exactly that.

See that drain pipe on the other side? See the water
line? That's where the water is supposed to be.

I don't know how long it will take for me to get through this funk that I'm in at the moment. It hit pretty hard and pretty fast, and I know what one of the major causes is (a couple, actually) and so it's a matter of dealing with those individual things. I think part of that hit me as I was walking along our creek (what's left of it) that flows through town - it is all but dried up at this point. We've gotten a tiny bit of rain, so there's a puddle in the middle of it, but it's dry. But I know that no matter how dry and ugly it looks right now, at some point it will be beautiful and flowing again. It'll probably take until next spring for that to happen, but it'll happen. Maybe we'll get enough rain and snow for it to happen quickly, and maybe not.

But it'll come back, just like it always has. And so will I.

I'm not all that.

Seriously. I'm not.

So many times, people have told me how much they admire me for being able to "keep it together" or whatever. They think that I'm so strong or so brave or so ...... whatever ..... because I'm a single mom with 5 kids and I'm not in an asylum (yet).

I've got news for you.

I put up a good front sometimes.

The past couple of days have - to put it bluntly - sucked. The kids have not been cooperating, I haven't felt good, and to be totally honest, I just have not been too terribly happy with much of anything around me.

I don't usually put that out here. Why? Am I afraid of being judged for how I feel at times? Yep. Darned right I am. Am I afraid of being criticized? Yep. That too. So I don't usually talk about the bad days.

But you know what? I'm human. And right now, I'm having a crappy time. And it's nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about or anything like that. It's normal.

I've talked about my depression before - so it's not like it's a big secret. For the most part, it's not a big deal. However, for whatever reason, my body has decided to do all sorts of wonky stuff to me, my hormones are in a rage, and I'm just really really moody.

Honestly, I have no real reason to be down. My life is good awesome right now. My kids are amazing, even if they have been at each others' throats lately. They are healthy and their grades are off of the charts at school and they are just plain amazing. I have a wonderful man in my life who loves me in spite of all of my quirks and weirdness and mood swings, and he loves my kids too.

And as much as I would like to just crawl into bed and hide under the covers or curl up on the couch with Ben & Jerry and the remote, I can't do it because I have 5 little humans that get crankier than normal if I don't pay enough attention to them and feed them and take them to school and stuff like that.

So I will deal with my moods as much as I can. I will more than likely stand here for half of the night cutting fabric for some projects in order to keep my hands busy. Sarah will be back here after a football game tonight so that I can take her to Ex1's church in the wee hours of the morning to go on a trip with the youth group there. And then the boys and I will be spending the day running errands all over the place. And hopefully by keeping myself busy, I can keep some of the blues away at the same time. If all goes according to plan, The Dude and I will get to spend some quality time together this weekend as well - which is always a good thing.

So yeah, I'm not perfect. I'm not WonderMom, I'm not a superhero, I'm not anything special. I'm just a mom who loves to talk about the good days, but doesn't always like to admit that there are bad ones too.

At the same time, I know that the bad days will pass and the good ones are waiting just around the corner - and admitting that there are bad days doesn't make me a bad person.

More plum picking. And a vent.

The kids and I went out yesterday to pick more sand plums. It's rare that I can get them to agree to go - they don't like to do it, but yesterday, they were willing so I jumped at the chance! They actually did seem to enjoy it, although there was some whining and complaining by the end of it. But in their defense, it was hot, and we did a lot of walking and exploring.

One patch that we found was a little bit trickier to access - and this is just one of the reasons why long sleeves and long pants are mandatory attire for sand plum picking!!!

I think we spent about 2 hours out there, and we ended up with just shy of 18 pounds of fruit this time. There is still a ton out there to be picked, but I think we're going to wait another 1-2 weeks before we go out again to give more of it a chance to ripen.

I'm planning on doing an entire blog with the step-by-step directions on how to make the jelly - I tried to take pictures the other night when I was making the juice but I'm having issues since my real camera died. My phone takes great pictures outside, but in inside light it just plain sucks. The Dude and I priced cameras today, but I just can't justify spending the money on one right now so I'm going to hold off on that purchase for a bit.

Which leads me to this....

I've debated saying something. Then I talked myself out of it. But at the same time, I feel like I need to just say it and get it out of my system.

I'm just having a hard time right now. The stress of trying to get my van fixed is really getting to me, and I'm really frustrated. After getting a second opinion on it, it was determined that it is indeed the transmission, and about the only way to fix it is to replace it.

Yes, we could get a junkyard transmission, but that might only last a month and then I could be back in the same boat again. There are no guarantees with those, but I agree that the prices can't be beat. So we are pricing new ones so that there is at least a fighting chance that it'll last a few years, plus it'll have a warranty in case something goes south again.

We're looking at $3000-3500 to get it replaced. I still owe on the van, so I pretty much *have* to fix it.

I tried to get the warranty people to work with me, since it's only 609 miles out of warranty - they refused.
I looked into refinancing it to get the money for the repair, and was shot down.
I talked to the dealership about working out financing or payment plans there - no luck.
I applied for a loan at my bank - denied.
I bought a lottery ticket - just one - and yeah, well, we all know how that worked out.

I'm in a weird place with my credit. It is way better than it was a couple of years ago, but it's not good enough to qualify for much of anything. A cosigner won't help either - I already looked into that option.

So needless to say, I'm frustrated. I'm angry.

I'm depressed. There. I said it.

I just want to get someone to watch the kids for a day or two so I can go and curl up in the fetal position on my bed and cry and get it out of my system and get over it. But of course, that's not an option. Life must go on, van or not.

Instead, I will work my ass off to get things done around the house, and I will get all of these sand plums turned into jelly, and I will get all of the laundry and cleaning done and I will take care of my kids.

I'm not posting about this to get pity. I'm not looking for a handout or for atta-girls. I just need to get it out somewhere before I lose what little bit is left of my mind. I know that it's all going to work out at some point, and I know that there's some sort of big life lesson to be learned here. I just haven't figured out what it is yet. I'm trying to be patient and I'm trying to remain optimistic, but sometimes it's really hard to do.

So for now, I think I'm going to go figure out something for supper for the kids, and then I'm going to attempt to relax.

We'll see how that goes.

What motivates me?

This is a question that has been posed to me many times, in many different forms.

~ How do you do it?
~ How do you get it all done?
~ How do you keep going?
~ Do you ever sleep/How do you survive on so little sleep?
~ Isn't it hard to do it all alone?
~ What motivates you?

I've been thinking about this all day, trying to come up with a simple answer. But the truth is, there is no simple answer.

Over the years, I have battled with what I am sure is depression - I've never actually been officially diagnosed, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out, especially after the amount of time that I have spent analyzing and over-analyzing every aspect of my life. Since I have never been officially diagnosed, I am not on any medication for it - I have just learned to deal with it.

Some days are easier than others. Some days totally suck. Pair the depression with PMDD and it can turn into an ugly ride at times. There have been days in the past where even getting out of bed - no, even opening my eyes - was just not something that I wanted to do.

Luckily, over time, I've learned how to deal with it much better. The lows are nowhere near as low as they used to be. But at those low times, if someone had told me that people would eventually be asking me for motivational tips, I would have just given them a blank stare, because laughing in their face would have taken too much effort.

Honestly, on those lower-than-low days, motivation was hard to find. I'd get a shower because I honestly couldn't stand the way that I smelled anymore - how's that for a glamorous bit of motivational speaking? "Take a shower, or you'll stink!" But seriously, that's what it all boiled down to for me.

As I started to pull myself out of the funk, I started using lots of little tricks to keep myself going in the right direction. I am the queen of lists. I used to make lists of everything that I needed to do in a day - but it wasn't something like this:

That list doesn't look too bad, does it? But at the low points in my life, the thought of doing "laundry" was too overwhelming. I didn't know where to start.

So instead, my lists looked more like this:

I broke everything down into the smallest steps that I could possibly do. I did this because it was easier to cross off each individual step as I completed it - and then, when I got done with the WHOLE thing, I took great enjoyment in crossing the entire task off of the list.

Sometimes, it took me hours to make the lists. I would lay in bed the night before and develop them. Sometimes I even posted them online in a group that I was in at the time - I know for a fact that it annoyed people, but it helped to have some accountability to others. They could see how much progress I made or didn't make on that particular day.

Another trick I used at the same time (and still do, sometimes) is to set a timer. On the bad days, I'd set it for as short as 5 minutes - on the better days, up to an hour. But whatever the time period was, I'd pick a task and focus on that task and that task only until the timer sounded. I'd turn it into a race against myself, to see how much laundry I could fold or how many dishes I could do (or whatever it was) and most of the time, even after the timer went off, I kept going until I finished the task. I still do that to this day when I just don't feel like getting myself moving.

Nowadays, since my life seems to have straightened out a bit a lot, I don't have to rely on those tricks quite so much - although I do still use them when I'm having a bad day. While I don't use the timer so much, I know that I have a certain amount of time to myself in the afternoon when Daniel is in school, and so I have exactly that much time to get things done - whether it's the laundry, or grocery shopping, or working on a craft project. I know that the only time that I can generally get anything done is when the kids aren't around or when they're sleeping - so I use those times to the fullest.

When people ask me what keeps me going, the only answer that I can truthfully say is "the kids". I know that no matter how crappy I feel, no matter how bad of a day I am having, my number one priority is to take care of those kids. I have no choice on that one. I can't stay in bed and sulk all day - if I do, they'll likely burn the house down without a second thought. I have to get up just to ensure their safety, if nothing else. And well, while I'm up, I might as well throw in a load of laundry and wash the dishes, and well, you get the point....

The kids are my number one priority. And being a single mother, I know that if I don't do what needs to be done around here, no one else is going to do it. It doesn't matter if I'm sick - I have to get up and do what needs to be done around here. There isn't anyone else to pick up the slack. Honestly, I don't look at the majority of what I do as being the result of motivation - I look at it as a means of survival.

If I don't go out and buy groceries, no one else is going to do it.
If I don't do the laundry, no one else is going to do it.
If I don't take the kids back and forth to school, no one else is going to do it.

Another really good way to get me to accomplish something? Tell me that I can't do it - that I'm not capable of it. I have always enjoyed walking and hiking, and I had mentioned to someone (who shall remain nameless) a few years ago that I would like to start running. What did he say?

"You're too fat and lazy to do that." Yep. That's what I was told. So guess what? As soon as I got the hip replaced and felt strong enough, I started walking. And then it snowballed from there and I've now got a half-marathon and 3 5Ks under my belt. So there.

And now I have set a goal for myself to do one race per month for this entire year. I sat down last night and dug around online and found 7 or 8 that I can theoretically do (including the same half-marathon from last year and a 5K that I do with the girls every year) and I'm going to try my hardest to get them all in, if at all possible. Financially, I might not be able to do them all, but what I'm thinking is that if I don't have the money to do one, I can just do it on my own - start running and time it and see what I can accomplish. Having goals like that - actual events and dates on the calendar - is a huge help for me.

Having The Dude around has been an enormous help. I don't want him - or anyone for that matter - walking into my house when it's trashed. So before he comes over, I run around cleaning things up so that he can walk through the house without killing himself. Yes, he helps when he is here but he doesn't have to - and I don't want him to feel like he has to do anything. I know that part of that is the control freak in me, but I also just don't want him or anyone else who is a guest in my home to feel like they need to help me get things done around here.

So there you have it. What motivates me, the tricks that I've learned, and things that have helped me. I don't know if it will help anyone else, but if it does, great. I'd also love to hear from others on the subject - give me your tips and tricks, what has worked and what hasn't. Leave a comment here, post it on my facebook page, whatever - it might help me and it might help someone else who is going through a rough time.

A whirlwind of emotions...

I don't even know what to think right now. I'm physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. Yet with the exhaustion, my mind is still going a billion miles a second.

I woke up this morning and had to get the kids up and dressed and fed and ready for school. As I was making pancakes, the strangeness of the situation hit me. My ex-husband just died, and I was making pancakes, like I always do. Regardless of my inner turmoil, I still have to go on living. Life goes on.

In between taking the three older kids to school and taking the two younger ones to playschool and then picking them up, and then getting the 5 year old on the bus for preschool, I was trying to clean and keep up with the almost constant phone calls and text messages and facebook posts that kept coming in. Thankfully I was able to talk to a friend who had been through this before - the death of an ex - and she assured me that the emotions are normal. I had no idea that I would hurt this much. I mean seriously, I divorced the guy. I didn't want to be with him anymore. I wanted him out of my life. But did I want this? Hell no! I still always had a tiny glimmer of hope that he would become a good father, and now that glimmer has been permanently extinguished. He is never coming back.

I got a call from one of his family members today, and suffice it to say that it wasn't pleasant. While informing me that she wasn't here to judge anyone, she made it damned clear that he had been in a severe depression because he wasn't able to see our son, and that ultimately contributed to his death. Really? He hasn't even been gone for 12 hours, and you want to blame me for it? Whatever lady - go ahead. Blame me if it makes you feel better. And now you want his family to have a "relationship" with my son? Now that his father is dead? Hello...what happened to the last 2 years, when you didn't acknowledge his existence? I got angry and said some things to her that I probably shouldn't have said, broke down crying, apologized, yelled at her some more and apologized some more. I have way too many emotions going through my head right now for some virtual stranger to inform me that a family that is 1700 miles away wants to have a relationship with my son. I'll make that decision eventually, but it's not going to happen today. Or even tomorrow.

I wish that I could just put everything that I'm feeling into words. I have so much going through my head right now and I just can't seem to make any sense of it. Why did this happen? How? How could someone who is 46 years old die of congestive heart failure? I know that there's a family history of heart problems, and I know that the alcohol and the smoking contributed to it, but still...46 years old?

I can't wrap my head around the enormity of this. I just can't do it. I have about 14 loads of laundry to do, bedrooms to clean, sidewalks to shovel, kids to pick up, supper to make, baths to give....and I can't even figure out how to do any of it right now.

Plans, Stress, and Rental Cars

Why, oh why…..why can’t I have one drama-free day? Just one? Is that too much to ask?

I found out about a week or so ago that my best friend from college was going to be in the Kansas City area for work for a few days. We have not seen each other since 2004, so there was no way that we were going to NOT get together while she was here. She had no way to get to me, so I had to get to her. The plans started formulating, with a friend offering to take me to Kansas City.

Plans. Plans suck. Plans never work. Saturday morning, as I was racing from basketball game to basketball game, the She-Beast died. Literally sputtered and died alongside the road. I was able to get a hold of a friend who lived in the area and she came and took my kids to the next basketball game while her son came out and tried to work some magic. We towed it back to their house, but couldn’t figure out much of anything so we towed it the 30+ miles home. One theory was a bad fuel filter, so I bundled up the two youngest ones and we walked the mile to the auto parts place and got a new one. I came home and put it on, but alas, it didn’t work. So it could possibly be the fuel pump, which is of course located INSIDE the gas tank – that one is beyond my abilities to fix. I need help on that.

Anyway, driving the She-Beast to KC was Plan B. Plan A never worked, as the friend who was supposed to drive me went out of town for work and still has not been heard from (*gritting teeth*). Plan B was now out of the question. I tried to find a vehicle to borrow – no luck. Finally, I started looking at rentals and found out that I could get one with unlimited mileage for $20 for the day. Sold! I had to beg a ride to Wichita to get it (thank you very much to my 4-year old’s father for that one), but I got it and then I dropped my youngest off with some friends and I hit the road.

The trip up was uneventful. Having no kids in the car was strange, but it necessitated having the radio cranked up as loud as it would possibly go the entire way. I sang along with everything and had a blast. I found some great radio stations and so I had the opportunity to belt out tunes from everyone from Bon Jovi to Depeche Mode to Tim McGraw to Metallica. I managed to get up there just shortly after she checked into the hotel, so we went and grabbed something light to eat and visited for a while before I took her on a driving tour of Kansas City at breakneck speeds. Driving around and talking just reminded me so much of our days in college when we would take so many insane spur-of-the-moment road trips together, including a 17-hour one to see the peach drop in Atlanta, GA for New Years. Word of advice – if you ever have the chance to do that, don’t. It was nothing more than a giant orange pillow with a bajillion drunk people crammed into about a one square block area underneath it. But anyway…..

After our driving tour, we went back to the hotel and grabbed her coworker and we went to what the desk clerk called a “Mex-Tex” restaurant nearby. I’m not a huge fan of Mexican food, but wow – this stuff was good! The waiter was, uh, interesting, to say the least. He just couldn’t comprehend some of the things that we were saying to him – I think he was overwhelmed by three East Coast ladies in one room or something. But we had fun eating too much, talking non-stop, and halfway watching the Patriots lose to the Jets.

I finally left around 8:00pm, 2 hours behind schedule. I filled up the gas tank and hit the road. I got back to pick up my youngest around 10:45 and we got home at around 11:15. He was still awake when I picked him up and was still awake when we got home. He put a movie in (yes, HE put the movie in) and I turned out the lights and he crawled into bed with me and we both fell asleep.

This morning has already involved getting the rental car back to Wichita (and getting a ride back with another friend) and sending out feelers to try to get someone to come and look at the She-Beast to try to figure out what is wrong with her. My mind is going a billion miles a second right now, trying to come up with plans (there’s that word again) to get it fixed, get my daycare business up and running again, get my crafts going again, get my canned stuff going again, and just get some money rolling in again.

It is time, no it is beyond time, to get my act together. This divorce and all of the drama that went along with it is now over. I let myself slide into a very deep depression – one that I’m not sure most people were really aware of. I let things go that I never should have, and I’ve put myself into a very ugly financial position. But the good thing is that now I realize it. I see it very clearly. So now it’s time to fix it. Today’s plan – and yes, I’m using the p-word because I am determined to break the p-word jinx – is to get everything around the house cleaned up and straightened up and make the house look not so…….grotesque. Once that is done, the lists will be made – lists of things that I need to do in order to reclaim my life. And these lists are not going to get thrown away or lost in the shuffle – they will be kept, they will be followed, and they will be completed.

I have a new (or old) last name. I am in a new decade of my life. I am in a fairly new home (it’s been a few months, but it’s still new-ish). It is definitely time for a new start. Going to grab those hypothetical big girl panties and put them on – as soon as the laundry is done.