Happy Birthday

Ah, birthdays. For some reason, we all celebrate the day we were brought into the world, even though we didn't do any of the work. The mothers really should be the one getting all the praise and gifts. They are the ones that had to get all fat and work hard to bring us into the world in the first place. Anyway, I just had my 33rd birthday. Not an exciting number. No milestone, no new privileges, no one saying "You're legal!" or "Now you are an adult!" or "Mid-life crisis yet?" There is nothing to write home about 33.

What I find interesting is how I feel about birthdays in general now. When you are kid, you couldn't wait to be "this many" and use both hands. We were in such a hurry to grow up. Each birthday was about the long list of toys we wanted and hoped we got. There was cake and ice cream and friends to celebrate the years you've accomplished and the one you were heading into. Birthdays meant parties, telling your friends and/or teachers your birthday was that day over and over and over again, sleepovers, gifts, sugar until your eyeballs hurt, gifts, skating rinks, games, gifts, counting on another finger because you were older, gifts...... birthdays were something you counted down to out of excitement. Birthdays were just that though. Fun. The day came, you partied your face off and then the next day came and you moved forward with new toys, fantastic memories, possibly a belly-ache and cavity, and a new list of things you wanted for next year. Not when you hit your late 20's. That changes everything.

I'll be honest, my birthday crisis didn't really start until I turned 30. I was on the brink of a meltdown at 29, but put it off one more year. Thirty. What a bad word. Things begin to sag, droop, darken, wrinkle, ache and dull. That's not what bothers me the most though. For some reason, when you become "of career age," birthdays become a way of looking at your life, judging it based on some stupid "What I need to accomplish by (insert age here)" list and becoming depressed when you realize you couldn't be further from your goal. Your unrealistic goals. Why do we use birthdays as the day to step back and observe our accomplishments (or lack of)? As if there is some golden rule that by the time your are 30, you must have the perfect well-paying career, an established 401K, a spouse, a house with a picket fence and 2 1/2 kids. Seriously? I'm STILL not sure I'm in my correct field of work. I do have a husband, a house with a privacy fence in the back yard, I think my job has a 401k that I put money into and we have a 1 year old. Just one 1 year old. I was certain by this age I'd have a much higher paying – much more important job, a bigger house, and I was supposed to be done having all the children we were going to have.... 2. My list of accomplishments by 30 was incredibly long. I felt that everything must be checked off in permanent marker by now. The check boxes on my list are barely filled in. We fall for this "I must be depressed about my birthday" mentality and set ourselves up to fail. There should be a class in college about the real world and how to set easily attainable goals once you graduate. Ok, maybe not "easily" but REALISTICALLY attainable goals. Do humans LIKE being depressed?!

This year, I'm going to try my darndest to count my blessings, consider what I have achieved to be impressive and forget my age. Ok, the last part is for my sanity. Like I said earlier, 33 isn't exciting. I'll take my droops and wrinkles and aches one step at a time and thank God He blessed me with family and friends to surround me, the knowledge of Him to save me and know that I'll have to do all this again next year. Help me Rhonda, I'll have to do this again next year.

Courage

It's the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc without fear. Considering my life is full of fear (which I hate), I lack a sense of courage that I'd like to have. There are times where I've just had a knee-jerk reaction out of "courage" without thinking at all, so the fear didn't have time to stop me. I like to think that being courageous means facing difficulty, danger, pain, etc while working THROUGH the fear. Having this kind of bravery usually comes with the visual of a superhero in a red cape saving children from a burning building. You think Superman never had fear right before fighting off bad guys?

So anyway, my friends that lost their baby girl, Maelee, just 7 months ago have a new adventure ahead of them. While fighting through this seemingly never-ending grief of losing their daughter, they are celebrating a new baby. Heather is 3 months pregnant!! They are elated, scared, nervous and cautious. They are courageous as they fight THROUGH the fear. They are an inspiration. They give me hope. They give others hope. Just thinking of their loss brings me to my knees in sadness, so trying to even understand their emotions is impossible. I can't wait to hold that sweet little red-headed baby! I can't wait to tell him or her about how courageous and awesome his or her parents are. I can't wait to tell that sweet baby how Maelee made Heaven shine so much brighter to so many people. God is so good. God blesses us every single day.

I'll admit, watching Greg and Heather grieve and struggle to find a new "normal" made me very reluctant to even think about having another child. What if that happened to us? Would I be able to be strong and keep my faith and hope? Would I be angry at God? Could I still be a good mother to Ella? Stupid "what ifs." Stupid fear. I find myself fearing what might happen every time we say "if we have another one" and in the meantime, Heather and Greg find the courage to try again. WOW! I learn so much from them all the time. I truly believe God placed these people in my life for a very specific reason.

Maelee, you are missed more than you could ever fully realize. You have been a witness to so many people in your short life on earth and even more so as you have found heaven. Heather and Greg, I owe you so much. You give me strength, courage and stronger faith. Without this Kasowski crew, I just don't know what I'd do.
I love you FOUR! Thank you.

The Situation

After a long talk with my best friend in the whole world, I've come to realize there's a lot about myself that I knew, but was never ok with saying them out loud. I shared a few things with her that day, so here it goes:

PEOPLE
I say I don't care what people think of me. If it's someone I don't particularly know, then that's true. If it's someone that drives me past frustration, it's also true. People that I know, have no problem with, but just don't know well, it's not true. I care. A lot. There is one person at work that I'm sure doesn't like me. There is no reason for it. Maybe she feels our personalities don't match or I'm too loud. Either way, she is nice to me and works well with me, but I can just tell that most of it is "professional" and not out of true feelings. I don't know why that bothers me so much. Why do I want some person I deal with every so often at work to like me? I like it when people like me. I just do.

FUNNY
I get my adrenaline rush when people think I'm funny. I want to make people laugh. I always have. I like it when people are having fun and laughing means fun. I want people to be happy and if they are laughing, then at that moment, they can't be sad or stressed. I want to be the funniest person you know.

SWEETS
I like them a lot more than I admit. I can down a whole box of Fudge Rounds in one sitting and not feel gross. I rarely turn down sweets. I make jokes out of it when something sweet is offered to me, but I usually can't get to it fast enough. I want more than one serving, too. It's my weakness. GOT. TO HAVE. IT.

DIET COKE
No secret here. My greatest addiction for years. I feel weird without it. There are times when I feel sick of it, but I still drink it. It's become habit. When I'm cranky, I usually use not having one as an excuse. People buy it and I sound less like Bad Mood Jones.

SHORT
I hate being short. I feel left out.

CUTE
I hate being called cute. A woman likes to be beautiful. My 15 month old gets called beautiful all the time. I'm always "cute." I feel like a puppy. Boo.

SAD
I don't want anyone to be sad. I will usually do anything I can to make people not sad in some way. I sometimes become obsessed with making the other person feel better. See "FUNNY."

FRIENDS
I feel like I don't have enough, but the ones I have are irreplaceable. I sometimes feel like I'm not good enough to my friends.

BABY
There are times that I feel like being a mom keeps me from being able to be as good of a friend since I can't go many places these days. I didn't want having a baby to change my relationship with my friends. They keep me sane. I need them. I feel left out of their lives sometimes and it's my fault.

TALKING ON THE PHONE
I used to love it. Now, I'd rather not. I don't have much to say other than what Ella has been up to and not everyone wants to know that.

HOUSE
I have my moments when I get jealous of other people's homes. I know that is wrong, but we don't have a lot of money and our house is old. I love it, but it's not "expensive-looking" and all my friend's houses do.

JEALOUS
I don't want to be jealous of anyone. I am often. See "HOUSE."

DANCE
I can't dance enough. I love to do it. I wish I could Hip Hop dance. I would feel so freakin' cool if I could.

PIANO
I want to take lessons. I want to own a piano and play for hours everyday. I used to play by ear, but have lost it.

GUITAR
Same with the guitar. It would make me feel a little cooler, too.

FOOD
I love food. I don't like to hear I should eat healthy because all I can think of is salad. I HATE SALAD. I want meat and potatoes!

MYSELF
I try to do everything myself because I don't want to be a burden. I'm running myself into the ground and I won't ask for help. I don't know why.

BODY
My body grosses me out and I don't have energy to work out. I always say "tomorrow." We are set to go to Jamaica next year and I'm dreading it.

ELLA
I feel like Ella should be just as important if not more to most people. Because of this, she is spoiled.

NEWS
I check the news 10 times a day. I fear that another major event like 9/11 will happen. I think about that a lot.

OTHERS
Most of the time I feel like a redneck around other people. I hate dressing up, I am loud and don't like to do "girly" things. I feel like the nasty redneck girl that doesn't mesh well with other girls. There are lots of girls I avoid because I feel so stupid around them. I don't cook, don't have a clean house, don't dress well, have bad skin and currently don't work out. The thought of being a well-dressed domesticated woman who likes a good glass of wine makes me gag. I don't want to be that woman because I'm bored by that woman, but I feel stupid around women who are that. I don't know why.

ADAM
I feel like I let him down often. I hate volleyball because it takes him away from me all the time. He wants me to come to games and practices and get to know the girls and their parents. I never do and really don't want to. He would come see me if the roles were reversed. I feel bad about it, but still can't bring myself to be around annoying parents. I struggle between being supportive and being angry at all things volleyball.

Day whatever: start over?

Schedules haven't lined up. Food has been fast and the most working out I've gotten in these days is dancing with Ella in the living room. I need to start over from scratch on all this.

Spiritually, I feel better than before. We went back to First Baptist for the first time in probably a year this past Sunday. We'd been frequenting other churches in hopes to find the perfect one for us. Turns out FB might be the one. I fought back tears the entire service. It was moving, touching and spoke loud. Gratitude. In all the worry, fear and frustrations I let run my moods, I forget to be grateful for all I have.

This week, Greg, Heather and Maelee have been weighing on my mind a great deal. It catches up with me when I least expect it. Sometimes it's a song that brings all the emotion back. Sometimes it's seeing Greg at work doing his best to work through his suffering. I look at Ella and am grateful. I am also sad for what they don't have. The kisses, the hugs, the belly laughs and the game of peek-a-boo Ella starts up in the middle of dinner. My heart aches for them so much more than I could begin to describe. I don't know that time heals you. How could it? They held their child's lifeless body. You don't get over that. You live your new life the only way you know how. Greg doesn't seem to talk as much about it at work these days. Maybe it's because he's trying to live as normal of a life as he can without stirring up so much emotion at work. Maybe he's tired of ME asking about him, his day, his weekend or whatever may be going on just to make sure he's still not without hope. Heather is traveling a lot. It's good. She's with family and gets to have some distraction from looking at the nursery. I worry about them a lot. I text, email and chat with them probably too much. I make up reasons to ask how their weekend has gone when all I want to do is hug them, pray with them and tell them I'm still sad, too. When you have a child that makes you glow, you ache for those who don't.

I made a slideshow of some of the images from their blog. The 4 hours I worked on it, I sobbed (yes, it took me that long because I couldn't figure out the new software). These images. The music. These are good christian people who want to be parents to Maelee with all their being, but that dream was ripped away. As much as I love our Lord and as much as I trust Him, I still don't understand it.

So, my physical growth (or should I say trimming) has come to a pause, but my spiritual growth is just that... growth. I'm learning and feeling and praying.

Day 4: Schedules and M&Ms

Day 4 was a disappointment. I had a less than filling sub sandwich for lunch, but accepted the fact that this new plan would probably be filled with unsatisfying food. Adam says food is fuel for your body, not a way to please your face. I'd like to hope there was a way to fuel your body AND have a happy face. Let's be honest, an unhappy face usually ends up at Zaxby's. Also, because I was so tired from all the "fuel" I was putting in my body, I caved in and ate peanut m&ms for a snack, but not without my friend Laurie calling me out for it. I justified it in about 5 different excuses and wolfed them down in a record time of 30 seconds. So far, my plan is really panning out. I feel better already (insert sarcasm here).

Adam had to train some folks for volleyball and didn't get home until around 10pm. That meant no running for me. It was too hot for Ella to do anything outside so I spent the time indoors with a living room full of toys that make noise, roll, jump or all of the above, hoping for this sleepy child to except it was bedtime. That way I could at least gear up the Wii Fit. No chance. Stupid schedule. Adam has recently taken a new job which will mean volleyball practices and games are year-round and full of late nights. I'll probably need to find another way to get a run in. Shoot! TWO DAYS?! Really?! That was all I got? But I'm not bitter.

I think I'm on the verge of giving up. Day 3 was a bust. Day 4 was a drag. On to day 5.

Day 3: This....

and pajamas.

Day 2: Willpower

Day 2 was a test of my willpower. I failed. Sitting down at my desk this morning I realized I brought nothing for breakfast. My stomach was acting like a jerk by yelling at me every 3 seconds. I grabbed a few dollars and headed downstairs with the intentions of grabbing a banana or yogurt from the cafeteria. As I ate my powdered donuts back at my desk, I wrote on my notepad "Vending machine 1, Me 0" This was not starting out strong. I was yelled at again later that morning, but this time it was 2 different people at work having bad days. I wasn't "able" to restrain my negative attitude in retort to their words. I later jotted down "Mean people 2, Me 0" So far, I was not on a winning team yet. I was beginning to feel like it was football season all over again. Sorry Gamecocks. My blood still runneth garnet and black. I was in a bad mood and this was not working well in my new plan.

For lunch I ate healthy so that made up for the donuts (in my book) and I was starting to feel better about the day. I avoided cranky women — which meant avoiding emails and phone calls sometimes, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. At this point, I happily looked at my list "Vending machine, 1; Mean people, 2" and added a 2 over my once mocking "0." I'd avoided being nasty to mean people after a bad morning AND ate like a healthy adult for lunch. That meant a fat 2 for me. Don't try to debate me on this one. Trust me. I deserved my 2. I was now even with the mean people on the score board and schooled the vending machine overall. So far, my willpower had sucked it up, but I was in the last quarter of the game and had tied it up with a field goal. However, all this effort to beat the vending maching meant I was losing my motivation to workout as I grew more and more tired throughout the work day. I was wondering if I'd actually pull a win in the end.

I got home and Adam went for a run. I was hoping that would get my psyched for my turn, but all it did was make me want to play with Ella and relax. I procrastinated for 2 hours after Adam's return before I changed out of my work clothes. It was hot and I was tired. Maybe I would just do a workout on the Wii. Unfortunately, there were good tv shows on and turning them off to workout seemed impossible. The remote seemed to be repelled by hand like polar magnets. I strapped on my iPod and went outside with no motivation. Not one ounce joined me as I stepped off my porch. This was going to suck.

I turned on my tunes and started out to the street knowing that if I went by yesterday's efforts, I was about 7% of an athlete. Walking was boring me already. I hadn't built up enough energy to start the jog yet and I was procrastinating even trying. Up and then down a hill and I knew I needed to at least try. I spent most of my time during the jog thinking about 2 things: 1. Why in the world I put some of those stupid songs on my Workout playlist because I now had to spend so much time hitting the "next" button and 2. Why did Akon rhyme "money" with "money?" That just seemed lazy.The heat had died down a good bit and to my surprise, my jog was coming to a close and I actually enjoyed it. I ran most of the way and without the need to ralph. Total running success. Who knew?!

To celebrate my success, I ate well for dinner. Maybe I was gaining willpower after all. Tomorrow may bring good things, too. Before I climbed into bed, I realized I was already getting sore. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm too old for this crap. On to day 3.

Getting Back in Shape- Day 1: You can't walk off puke

Today is the first day of getting in shape. I had no intention of starting a plan like this today. I had visions of a fat, juicy hamburger with fries and giant fountain diet coke for lunch today while keeping myself cool indoors. It wasn't until Adam curled his lip at the idea of a fatty lunch and said "I'm going for a run." that made me want to rethink my day. So, I'm working on eating right, getting exercise, staying positive and keeping my spiritual body fed.

There are a few reasons I've decided to try for my old "before Ella" body.

1. Looking at photos from our recent trip to the beach made me cringe. The tankini that I wore the 2nd day of our trip (because it would be a little more forgiving on my aging body) was anything but forgiving. Wet material does nothing more than cling to my muffin top and fanny pack of fat left over from having a baby. That stupid thing won't go away even though I've lost my baby weight.

2. Losing the baby weight does not mean I have my old body. Flappy thighs, jiggly belly and a saggy rear are new accessories to my frame. I don't even like to accessorize. I noticed these awesome additions in my reflection at the beach while in walking around in my bikini. Not a good look.

3. I need to find a way to feel more like the old me. Having a baby has certainly made me different and that's not a bad thing, but I do miss being my old athletic self. I've been athletic in some form or fashion all my life. Now, I get a cramp walking to the mailbox.

Adam returned from his run, sweaty and tired, but feeling good about what he'd accomplished and proceeded to make a tomato sandwich for lunch. This was far from my original plans for the day. Trying to get inspired and motivated, I put on my running "gear" and came down to the kitchen where Adam and Ella were having lunch. I had my iPod on and was blasting music for about 30 minutes trying to get pumped up and have the courage to face the heat. I was much more interested in dancing in the kitchen and making Ella laugh than heading outside, but I did it anyway. With a belly full of strawberry torte and half a diet coke, I went outside.

With an ear full of music you'd hear at any club on a Saturday night in Myrtle Beach, I started my fast, warm-up walk. It was hot, but not unbearable. Yet. I walked a lot further than I planned. It was like my feet knew the second they picked up speed, I'd want to hurl. Feeling confident, finally, I started my jog. My feet found the beat to the song and I was off. I felt better than I anticipated. This was good. I was in better shape than I thought I was. This was cake. 500 feet into my victorious jog, I hit the holicrap wall. I mustered the strength to jog past a few more mailboxes and then started back to walking. Did it just get hotter out here? If I had to guess, I'd say it was easily 100˚F out. I should have brought water. What seemed to be 10 miles (more like .5) later, I started my jog down hill again.

At this point, I was pretty sure it was now 350˚F out. I know because I've put my hand in the oven to retrieve baked spaghetti and it was about this hot. My skin was sizzling. My shoulders were now turning a shade of pink. Normally I would be excited about this. I was getting a little "workout" tan, but the shades of pale green on my face was distracting from my new sun-kissed glow. I needed to puke. I didn't make it down the hill. I had to return to a walk. I needed to stop, but if I did, I'd be out here longer. Why did I do this? Jogging is overrated. I'm too old. I'll be happy in my flab, right? This was taking forever. I decided that walking slow in the shady parts of the road and then sprint walking to the next shaded area would be my intervals. I needed to puke. I thought I could just walk it off, but you can't walk off puke. I'd say I jogged a solid 7% of the time, walked with a purpose 45% of the time and spent the last 48% searching for shade and trying to keep the hurl from greeting my esophagus. These aren't good numbers, people.

When I finally got home, it was all I could do to make it to the fridge for my water bottle. I didn't puke so it was a victory. When I caught my breath and regained focus in my eyes, I made a cucumber sandwich with a little side of chicken. I was feeling good about what I just accomplished. I was doing what was best for my body.

For dinner, I had a fat, juicy hamburger, fries and a fountain diet coke.

The First Beach Trip

Ella's first beach trip was a quick 4 days to Myrtle Beach. It was fantastic. Getting packed for the beach was a challenge though. I was not only trying to pack for days on the sand, but for any issue we could run into with a 14 month old. A bag full of indoor toys, a wagon full of sand toys, a suitcase with bath toys, 10 outfits for 4 days just in case of a spill, vomit or blown out diaper. Wipes,regular diapers, swim diapers and bags for dirty diapers filled up the entire bottom of my giant suitcase. I'm glad I have an SUV because there was no way we would have made it there. Adam, who had to come later in the day, had to pack up what we couldn't carry. I don't think I realized how much you have to pack for such a small child, especially mine who bores easily.

Ella does not travel well. The 3 hour trip seemed to take 5 hours. We had to stop a few times for food or fetch a paci to calm the screaming in the back seat. I was convinced Ella would have been asleep 5 seconds into the trip, but I was so wrong. She hated the whole trip... well, up until we hit Myrtle Beach traffic and she then fell asleep. Nice. I'm not a huge fan of traveling as it is and having a child who hates it, too doesn't make it any better. Needless to say, when we pulled into the parking lot of our hotel, I was relieved.

I could smell the ocean with my windows up the minute I got to Ocean Blvd. There is a sense of excitement, happiness and joy that only the beach can bring. I couldn't wait for Ella to see it. My parents helped unpack the 400 items from my car and bring them up to our room. Ella was standing at the sliding door looking out. I could tell she was curious as to what all the excitement was outside next to that moving water. After an interesting (I say interesting because Ella was a "delight") dinner, we ran out to the sand and beach water. I didn't even change Ella into a bathing suit. It was getting late and I wanted her to see the ocean before the sun set. I think I sprinted out there with her. It was at that point I wished she could skip so we could skip out there together. I was giddy for her. I was giddy for me.

Mom and I held Ella's hand and walked her to the ocean so she could get her feet wet. She began to shake in fear. She was not a fan. I was worried this would set the tone of the whole trip. We retreated back to the sand where someone had dug a hole earlier that day. Victory! She was so excited about that hole that she jumped in and began pulling dirt in over top of her legs. She was squealing in delight over the sticky sand stuck to every part of her body. I sighed in relief and continued my paparazzi-like flashing of the camera. I didn't want to miss a single second of this trip.

Adam arrived shortly after we returned to the room. After a short encounter with the world's largest dragonfly visiting us in our room and not wanting to leave, we were able to relax in our room and enjoy just knowing we were at beach for the first time in years. It felt good.

Ella loves to dig. She carried her bucket and shovel from the room, to the beach, to the pool, back down to the beach and even to the tub for her bath. We spent the next full day between where the ocean met the sand, the damp sand for building mud piles, the tent for shade and swimming in the pool. We took a break for sandwiches and fruit before starting the process all over again. Ella did great (except for dinners) which made the trip totally worth the agonizing 3+ hour drive with a very unhappy traveler. Dinners were a challenge for a child who no longer wants to be confined even to eat. Eating in shifts while the other walked Ella around the restaurant wasn't ideal, but we survived. Note to self: Avoid dinners out with the 1 year old until she's ready to sit still. I have no idea when that will be.

Our last full day started with a nasty storm that worried us a little. I kept thinking Ella didn't get to spend enough time on the beach. WE didn't get to spend enough time on the beach. However, the sun found it's way back to us and the clouds thinned out and we marched ourselves right back out there. It was "the beach lite" as we didn't bring all the toys and tents out in case the rain found us again. More holes were made and more time was spent in the pool. We loved every minute of it.

We were sad to say goodbye to Myrtle Beach. Even with all the people trying to squeeze in one more trip before school started, it was perfect. I can't wait until Ella can play putt putt at those huge places along Ocean Blvd. I love the beach. I loved watching Ella at the beach. Myrtle Beach.... we will be back.

Worry

Waiting and the unknown are two things that drive me into an anxiety attack. These are also two things we deal with every single day, so I'm a bit tense from time to time.

I know a lot of you guys have been keeping up with us and our process of trying to help fix Ella's torticollis.

As some of you know, we've been going to physical therapy since the end of December in hopes to correct the torticollis before the age of 1. Doctors often say that torticollis can not be fixed with physical therapy once the child has reached the age of 1. After 12 months, surgery is usually recommended.

Ella has also been in a helmet since the beginning of February in hopes to correct damage already caused by the torticollis (such as asymmetry of the face and head and ear shifting). We've made great progress with the helmet and are, at this point, waiting for Ella's ears to shift back to a normal position. The tubes in her ears are at weird angles which can cause ear infections and long-term hearing problems. The kicker is ear shift can't be fixed until the torticollis is fixed first.

We took Ella to get x-rays to see how her bones are growing. The pulling of muscles can cause Scoliosis as wells as other problems. The x-ray images weren’t great so Ella is now going to have an MRI with sedation in less than a week. There is a 10% chance Ella doesn’t have torticollis and in fact has neck bones fused together which would mean much worse problems. The doctor wouldn’t even discuss what that would entail because her percentage is low and it’s not a great situation to be in. No need to worry just yet.

As of right now, the Dr. is predicting that we will find Ella does indeed have have torticollis, she will go through physical therapy through January (because he believes it could help for the most part to continue) and that point, if the torticollis has not been corrected, she will have surgery. He’s already recommended a surgeon and asked us to visit with him after we receive the MRI results if it is torticollis. He seems pretty confident she will need surgery. Our physical therapist believes that her problem in the next, for the most part, is improving a lot and may not be the cause of her issues anymore. She believes the problem now lies in her back muscles since she keeps her shoulders shrugged all the time. Surgery can't fix that, but a collar and botox treatments might.

As you can imagine, watching my child be sedated and becoming a limp, helpless baby will probably send me into an uncontrollable sob. Just thinking of her one day getting to participate in singing Vacation Bible School songs in front of the church makes me teary-eyed. Wednesday will be hard. I will pray for strength, but will probably find myself struggling to find it. Ella has made me quite the sap these days. I'm also a worry-wort and tend to fret about the "what ifs."

Being a parent is hard. There are responsibilities that make each day a challenge. You have to find energy from down in your gut just to keep up. Sleep becomes a luxury and eating becomes an after thought. These are all things I am happy to do. The hardest part of being a parent is the worry. You love this child so much that it hurts and to have your child suffer is almost unbearable. I pray Ella's condition is fixable. I pray it will be with as little pain as possible and that she won't remember any of this. We are tired, worried, but most of all we are hopeful. Pray for Ella.

Still learning

The past year has been an interesting one. I've had to learn a lot about myself and I'm not sure I always love what I see. I always thought of myself as an independent person. I am confident and eager to learn. I'm, for the most part, humble and ready to take on whatever comes my way.... at least I thought.

Being a mother has tested my patience and my character. I've struggled getting to know the "new me" as a mother while trying to keep some small part of me as I was before Ella. I rarely do things for myself now that I'm a mom. I'm fine with that, mostly. I do have times where I long to use the bathroom without an audience or just run to Target for a "look around" at the cute clothes without buying diapers. I haven't spent one single night away from her yet, although we are planning for the first night away this weekend. We'll see how that goes. I've found that all I talk about these days is either work or Ella or being Ella's mom. (Sorry Adam. I'm sure I'll get back to telling Adam stories again one day.) I told my friends a thousand times what kind of mother I wouldn't be and now I'm neck deep into that very person. I show off pictures of Ella all the time as well as make her my desktop picture and post videos of her on youtube for all to enjoy. I'm "that mom" and to be honest, I'm proud.

What being a mother has also done is show me how I am in a tense situation. There are times, most times now, that I can remain calm and either walk away from a temperamental child or handle with with hugs and reassuring words. There are times, however, that I'm pushed to the edge and feel like I'm going to lose my mind. There are times that I've raised my voice at Ella with frustration and I always feel so guilty afterwards. I do mean to discipline, but not so harshly. I usually end up in some marathon-winning hugging session with her once I've calmed down. I don't like that part of me. I am trying to remain aware of my emotions and actions around her so that I can act the best way for both of us. That isn't easy. I've dealt with that nasty little part of me for as long as I can remember. Harsh confrontation. It's something I'm comfortable with and I don't like that at all.

I've also had to learn how to be a mom. From someone who still needs hers all the time, that is kind of hard. I've never been that girl who loved to babysit or to hold babies. In fact, I never even really liked kids (other than my cousins) until I had Ella. I knew I wanted to have my own, but I was never drawn to children before. I have had to remember what it was like to be the child and how I wanted my mom to be for me so that I can be that for Ella. When she's sick and pitching a fit, I have to remember that all she wants right now is her mommy. Instead of trying to reason with a 1 year old and get frustrated with the fussing, I have learned to just hold on to her tight and let her feel comforted even if it means hearing her whine for hours. Oh the whining for hours is a sound that goes right up my spine. It's a challenge to tune it out sometimes, but I do it. I do it because I'm her mom. My mom did it and so did her mom. Luckily for me, as a friend reminded me, I'm the only mommy Ella has ever had. As far as she's concerned, I'm the best mommy in the world.... well, until she can compare notes with her friends later in life. Every day is a challenge and every day is a learning session.

So today at the pediatrician's office, when Ella was running 103.1˚ fever and was miserable, I didn't panic. I held her little body close to mine, rubbed her head and waited patiently for the Dr. to tell us what was going on. I was what made her feel comforted. I was her protector. I was there, even when I was sweating because of her super hot little body stuck to mine and all I wanted to do was put her down for a minute to air out. I was calm when they pricked her heel and swiped her nose and throat to run tests. I wanted to seem confident to her that everything would be ok even though I was a little scared myself.

Being a parent is terrifying. I've feared it since the day I got pregnant. I worry constantly about Ella. I often think she deserves better than me. There are times I think how lucky we both are to have each other. It's awesome and scary. I'm learning. I'm doing things wrong and figuring out the right things, too. Everyday I'm still learning.

I feel stupid

I don't understand Christ like I want to. I know the basics. He loves me. He sacrificed His only son to die for my very own sins so that I may go to Heaven and be with Him. He loves me no matter how crappy a person and christian I am. I don't deserve His love, but am so glad he's decided to anyway. He has given my strength when I couldn't find any earthly support. He is always there, anytime of day or night, when I need to talk. I don't listen enough. I talk A LOT, but don't spend the time to sit and listen. I know the basic stories throughout the bible. Most I didn't fully understand when I learned them 20+ years ago so I need to spend some time going back over them. I want to know Christ better. He knows me better than I do and I need to know Him. There are days that I have a pity party for myself and think how stressful life is and how bad I have it. I forget to pray to get out of my funk and to have Christ show me the light and help me count my blessings sometimes. I get over it. Hindsight is always 20/20 and I usually thank God for things He did a long time ago because I was slack thanking Him when He blessed me. I'm a crummy christian in that I don't think I show that I'm a christian all the time. In my mind, I feel like I think about Him a lot, but my actions are lazy. I know I'm going to heaven. I believe. I have a relationship with God, all be it not impressive. Sorry God. I'm working on that. I thank God a lot. I pray for people's safety A LOT. I ask God to help me to be less negative and to show me my blessings some. Working on that part, too. There are songs about Christ, that when I sing them, I get choked up and am filled with His Glory. I like that feeling. I LOVE that feeling. I wonder why I don't feel that all the time. Why do I let Earthly things get in the way. That's not why we're here. I forget that. I'm glad God isn't human. If He were, He would have given up on me a long time ago and I'd be alone. I want to be better. I want to know Him better. I want Ella to know Him better than I do.

Adam

I miss my husband. He's off to Reno for 6 days and I feel lost without him. I'm one of those girls that wears his t-shirts to bed just to feel closer to him. I stare at pictures and wait by the phone. You still make my heart skip a beat, Adam! Hurry home, huh-ney! *sniff*

It doesn't exist, right?

So, I'm on of those people who hangs on to every word and detail when someone tells me of a tragedy. I listen and my mind wanders as I try to picture it happening and how I would handle it. I wish I didn't do that. For the most part, I try to avoid hearing about bad things. If I don't hear about it, it must not be happening, right? Yes, I do the same with calories. If I don't know what the calories are, there must not be any. It seems that in the past few months I've heard a lot of horrible stories. Most were about people I didn't know, but they still hit you pretty hard. When Greg and Heather lost their baby girl, I felt like I was walking in thick mud everyday. My legs were 200 lbs a piece and I just couldn't find a way to move. My mind played their story over and over and I began to put myself in their shoes (or at least try) and I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop crying. Since their little girl left her Earthly body, I've heard more tragic stories of parent's losing their children. I hate these stories. I wish they didn't exist. I feel like if people would stop telling them, then these horrible things would stop happening. I know it doesn't work that way. There was a time when I never thought parents could lose their children.... babies especially.

I don't have much else to say today. Greg and Heather seem to be on my mind all the time and it hurts to see them hurt. Heather had a birthday this weekend and Sunday was Father's Day. Hard, hard, hard. These are supposed to be happy times. Pain sucks.

A year

May 28, 2009 my little Ella was born. I was scared because it was an emergency c-section due to preeclampsia symptoms and she was breech. Weeks prior to this day, I had cried to Adam that I was scared to be a mother. I didn't know how to take care of a baby and what would happen if I didn't do it right? I feared motherhood that night like you wouldn't believe. So the moment they wheeled me into the surgical room, I was scared. I bawled my eyes out the second she was lifted over the blue curtain to show her off. She was covered in guck and was screaming. It was a great scream though. It brought relief.

So here we are... one year later. We have managed to keep Ella fed, dry and happy. I like to think we're pretty great parents. I can't believe we have a child. It still seems surreal. She is amazing and moody and smart and talkative and fast.... she's perfect.

I can't believe it's been a year. It's been a challenge for sure. Sometime it's been overwhelming and incredibly hard. There were times I wondered if I was even meant to be a mother and Ella deserved better. But most of the time, I know we were meant to be together. She brings joy to our hearts. God gave us a little miracle and I'm so grateful to Him that He did. We don't deserve her, but I'm so glad He thought differently. Happy Birthday to my little girl. We are the luckiest parents on Earth.

Maelee's Day

May 29. This is the day my friends bury their little girl. I'm sad. I'm very sad. I know that God has plans for Greg and Heather and that He is comforting them. Knowing that doesn't seem to take away the pain of knowing that Greg will be digging the hole his daughter will be buried in. He will take a shovel to the earth so that Maelee can be buried. It may help the healing. It may help give some relief knowing that Maelee's earthly body has a final resting place. Maybe a new stage of grief will begin for them. I don't know if there are stages or if it just hurts differently as days carry on. Some days will hurt a lot worse than others. I still think it's unfair for Maelee to go. I still think it sucks and that parents shouldn't have to bury their children. Knowing that my friends have to do this rips my heart out. It's a pain that tears can't solve. The tears that fall from my face as I type this are for them. They are for Greg and Heather in hopes that there will be less tears for them to cry. I want them to be ok. I want them to not hurt so much. I will be praying for and thinking of them in these next few days harder than I have before. April was hard. May is hard. I pray June will bring comfort.

More to remember

Do you fee as bubbly inside as I do? Man, These pictures take me back to such a happy place. I'm thinking I'm never throwing any toys of Ella's away ever. I wish I'd kept all mine! These are DOPE!

Going back

This is what my Trapper Keeper looked like when I was in the 4th grade. IT. WAS. AWESOME. This one came with the snazzy clip on the inside back to hold my notepad and my pencil and 3 different color folders to hold all my papers. I loved it. I loved the sound of that velcro when class started. I loved the zip-up pencil holder that Mom bought me to attach with the 3-ring binder. I always used pencils that had a smell... you know, like strawberry or watermelon. I always had one of those erasers shaped like a heart or car or something. I don't know if I ever used it, but it looked good in my zip-up pencil holder. I found this image online today and it made me so happy. I loved my childhood. Look at it. It's beautiful, isn't it?

Finding better spirits

May has been a crummy month. I've had the worst 4 weeks at work than I've had in the 4 years I've been there. I've cried at work which I HATE to do because the stress has been overwhelming. Yesterday was our anniversary and Adam had to coach volleyball all night. It was crummy. I feel beat down and exhausted. What's more, I feel sad.

I feel sad for Greg and Heather. I asked myself today "Why am I still sad after 6 weeks? It didn't happen to ME." I don't know if when bad things happen to people you care about effects you more than you realize or if it's because I have a baby at home. Maybe it's both. I've experienced the excitement of having your first child. I delievered in that very hospital where Heather delivered Maelee. Maybe it's the little pile in Ella's closet of things I'd planned on giving to Greg and Heather for Maelee that just sits there with no where to go. I don't know if it's the fact that I see Greg at work sitting at his desk, working through the pain. What I do know is that listening to sad music can make it worse. It's what I've wanted to listen to, but I can't dig myself out of the sadness when all the music I hear is slow and sad. I've got to stop that.

There are days that I don't shed a tear for Greg and Heather and think maybe they won't shed a tear that day, too. I know I'm wrong. There are days where out of no where I'll sob while working on a project at work or riding in the car. This is just me. How are THEY dealing? I have my child. She is healthy and thriving. I can hold her and watch her grow. They don't have that with Maelee. If I'm sad, I know they are beyond that.

So, I'm focusing on my blessings. I'm turning off the sad music. I'm going to stop complaining about my crummy May. I'm also going to pray for Greg and Heather. I'm not going to be able to stop being sad, but I need to be better for Ella. I'm finding better spirits. What stinks is Greg and Heather can't do that exactly. They are burying their little girl in a week. Better spirits seem a good ways away for them. Keep praying for them. There suffering is indescribable.

What's on my mind

SCARS

I thought about this after noticing a scare on my arm that has almost faded away after 11 years. I was happy it was starting to go away. I hate it. Scars were initially wounds. Most are visible and look pretty bad. People go out of their way to say "What happened? Are you ok?" These wounds heal eventually, but leave a scar. A scar is a reminder of what happened. Scars will stop hurting as much one day, but it never really goes away. Somedays you won't remember it's there and the event that caused the scar doesn't cross your mind. Somedays you stare at the scar and play out the event that caused it over and over in your head. The feelings you had when you got that injury can come back as if it just happened. Some people won't ask you about your scar because they are scared of what you might say. I'm mean let's face it. It had to be pretty nasty to leave a mark, right? What if something horrible happened and now you've just opened up all those emotions again. It's better to pretend you didn't see it. There are those who WANT to talk about their scar. They will offer up the story without being asked or wait to see the look on your face when your eyes glance in it's direction. There are also those who would rather you ignore the scar, too. Everyone deals with the scars differently. Scars are reminders of what you've been through, but at the end of the day, they are what makes you you. They build character and always leave you with a story to share with others... if you're up to it. Greg and Heather have a wound on their hearts and one day they will have scars. It's a place that toughens up, but never goes away. That scar is Maelee's passing.

GETTING TO KNOW OTHERS

This has nothing to do with Greg and Heather's situation. It's just something I've dealt with recently. Everyday we meet people. Somedays we meet people we really want to get to know more. Those people can become friends. I love asking people about their life outside of what you already know. What music or food or stores they like. What they wish they could do if they had no limitations. It's fun to learn this stuff. What is disappointing is to learn that person you call a friend doesn't share an interest with you that you find important. Examples of this may be politics or religion or sports team views. There are somethings you can learn to deal with and some that you can't. For me, it's religion. I have a hard time understanding folks who don't believe. They claim to be spiritual but not religious. That saying drives me nuts. It means nothing. It's careless, lazy and messy. I almost can't relate to someone who doesn't believe the way I do. Most of the time, these unbelievers want to debate you on your beliefs. They want to mock you for being so gullible. I don't know that I have patience for this person. It's disappointing to learn this about a friend. I hope I don't learn that about you.

BIG GIRL SEAT

I had a new car seat installed in my car today for Ella. It's not a carrier and it can hold up to 50lbs. This is Ella's big girl seat. It's happening too fast.

GUTTERS

We had new gutters installed on the front of our house today because our others were falling off. I'm not sure we can actually afford this.

OLD DAYS

When I was younger, I didn't have so much stress. I wondered which tree would be best to climb and which cereal goes best with Smurfs on Saturday morning. I miss simpler times most when my stress is the highest. I had no idea about martial affairs of those you know and that sometimes you can't pay the bills because you've run out of money. I didn't know that there were family members that really don't like each other all the much. Things were good. Friends were good. Times were good. Stress wasn't there. My fear is that Ella won't be able to have "good times" in her childhood. There is too much too visible to kids these days. Too much technology. Too much "information." Too much sex and violence. I want "the old days" for her to remember when she's my age.

LIKE

This is a word that is used too much and used incorrectly.

HAIR

I'm not having a good hair day today. I want to go home and put it in a pony tail.

NAILS

Why did I paint them this color? I'm not a fan of this color.

ANNIVERSARY

Adam and I are going to celebrate 4 years of marriage on Thursday the 20th. We've been together for 10 1/2 years and love each other more today than the last. We have no plans yet. Thursday he has to coach in the evening which means he won't get home until 9:30 or 10. Bummer.

WORK

It doesn't make me happy anymore. It's too stressful.

BIBLE

I haven't had time to read it like I want to. I really want to. I'm coming up with a plan to make this happen the way I want it to. It's important.

EMAIL

I'm annoyed by emails that don't concern me. I always forget to delete them and they pile up in my inbox. I can't find any email I actually need when I need to.

BORED

Is it possible to be bored when you actually have things to do? My experience today answers "Yes" to this question. I think I'd rather sharpen all my pencils than do what I'm supposed to be doing right now.

Read a story today

I read a story today about a woman in Lexington who lost her son 34 minutes after he was born. She was told at 5 months that he wouldn't survive outside the womb, but in the womb was perfectly healthy. He had some fatal condition that wouldn't allow his chest to expand enough to take a breath. He survived 34 minutes. The woman said something that made me tear up and feel a warmth about her situation. She said that she enjoyed her time as his mommy, but he wasn't hers to keep. He belonged in God's hands. That was a fantastic way to look at a horrible situation. Knowing this didn't make her less sad or grieve for a shorter period of time. She just found some comfort in knowing that she'd carried her son for the Lord. When asked if she had any advice for other grieving mothers, she responded, "God makes no mistakes. He has a purpose, and a desire for even the smallest or shortest life. I cannot offer advice to grieving mothers, because I am still unsure of my own feelings. The pain and sorrow is indescribable. If it weren't for my husband, my mother and my God, I would be broken. Because of them, I will heal. I am unsure whether or not I will ever feel whole again. But I am a mother, a wife and a daughter. It is still my job to be strong." She also says "Grief is a personal journey and no one has the right to judge a mother's grief. I choose Bailey's life [her healthy daughter] instead of Benjamin's death." Wow.

There was one part of this story that really got to me. Her son was born on the same day Ella was due. He was delivered almost the same time Ella was born. He was born in the same hospital Ella had been born in. Now Ella was not born on the same day because I had an emergency c-section due to preeclampsia symptoms. I don't know that if I hadn't had the c-section when I did that she would have come on the same day this family lost their little boy, but the thought sent chills up my spine. What if we HAD been there at the same time. We rejoiced when Ella was born. Friends and family came to hold her and congratulate us. We would have just been a few rooms away from a family grieving the loss of their baby. How horrible. Greg and Heather were grieving Maelee while other families celebrated just a few rooms away. *sigh* I just don't want anyone to feel that kind of pain. I get sad for them a lot. I count my blessings every time I hug Ella (and wake her up in the morning, feed her, bathe her, play with her, tickle her.....) Hate is an ugly word. I know it is because my MeMe told me so when I was just a kid. I'm supposed to dislike things and not hate them, but I hate what Greg and Heather are going through. I don't know if sharing the story of the Lexington couple with Greg and Heather would help or make them more sad, but I'll ask what they think. Sometimes realizing there are others grieving the same way you are can give a little comfort. Keep praying for them.

I don't know the future

Worry. It's defined as tormenting oneself with or suffering from disturbing thoughts; fret.

My worry often comes from the "unknown." What will happen? What if something happened? What's the worst that could happen? Because I don't know what the future holds, I worry about it. After trying to figure out exactly what my worry comes from, I came to one word... fear. What am I scared of? Pain. Not physical, but emotional and mental pain. I don't want to feel the pain of losing a loved one. This fear is the one that keeps me up at night. This is the one that interrupts my day and sends me into a phone calling frenzy checking on loved ones and their safety. "Call me when you get there." is a phrase I say a lot. If I don't hear from someone when "they get there" I spend the next 30 minutes calling every number I have for that person and have been known to jump in the car to travel the road they would take to look for them. Once I called all the hospitals in town. It's irrational and irritating, but it's reality for me.

Since Ella was born, I've gained a new person to worry about. I read a lot about babies before she got here. One word that jumped out at me every time I came across it was SIDS. I came across this information just recently:

"SIDS is the leading cause of death among infants 1 month to 1 year old, and claims the lives of about 2,500 each year in the United States. It remains unpredictable despite years of research."

It doesn't make sense for babies to just die. There should be a reason... sick, suffocate on a blanket SOMETHING. A baby dying just because it does.... doesn't make sense. You can't prevent "just because." On the facebook page of the Christian radio station I listen to has a post where you can list the hardest thing you've been through. At least 4 people wrote about losing children, 2 of which were children who died in their sleep at 11 months. ELEVEN MONTHS! 11 month old children have little personalities and laughs and favorite toys and dance to music. 11 month old children are almost 1... the "cut off" age for SIDS. They almost made it. Ella is 11 months old.

I've checked on Ella and made sure she was still breathing for 11 months. Not one night have I spent away from her, because it would mean I couldn't check on her breathing. Now that it's time for her to start eating table foods, my fear is choking. I've watched my father choke while I screamed as my mom tried the heimlich maneuver unsuccessfully over and over again. Fortunately, my dad's pill that was lodged in his throat moved enough to go down instead of come back up. That same weekend, my cousin choked on breakfast and ran from the kitchen table because he was afraid. Mom gave him the heimlich successfully this time. The choking fear comes not from the unknown, but from what I've seen. It's horrible.

Greg and Heather lost their baby before she was born. I don't know if they have any information as to why it happened, but last I heard, there was no explanation whatsoever. No reason. Just because. I hate "just because." I know someone that held their little girl's lifeless body. There are so many emotions that go with this one, but fear is one of them. I've thought about not having another baby just to avoid the chance of the pain they are going through. Fearing the death of my child comes from seeing the pain of someone who has. I don't know if I'd call this the unknown or knowing too much.

Fear is a nasty thing. It changes you. It's not Christian. One of my favorite hymns is "Because He Lives." The chorus reads

"Because He lives, I can face tomorrow. Because He lives, All fear is gone. Because I know He holds the future, And life is worth the living just because He lives."

I sing this to Ella at night if she can't fall asleep. I don't want her to fear things. I want to fall completely head first into these lyrics and not have fear. I want to let go and just let my future be with Christ with no fear of the unknown. It's hard. It's really hard.

This doesn't mean I don't enjoy motherhood or being a wife. I do. It's what makes me happiest. It's what gets me out of bed in the morning on the rough days. I love my family. They are incredible and I wouldn't change what I have. My fear is that it will change.

Say a prayer for me. I need Christ's help to let my fear go.

May 6

I've sat on this post for a couple of days. I wanted to write about what this day is. I was thinking I'd write about Greg and Heather and how they must struggle to see the 6th on this month come and know it's been a month since Maelee was born. I just feel like these words don't show the true emotion of what this day really means. On Greg and Heather's blog, they posted a picture of Maelee's hand in Greg's. Maelee's little tiny hand with long fingers like her dad's. Those little nails were supposed to be painted pink one day. That picture brought on a new kind of pain that tears couldn't relieve... although I tried. Ella had tiny hands like that. I remember holding them and kissing them and never wanting to let them go. I want that memory for Greg and Heather so badly. One month ago, Maelee was wrapped in her little blanket and her little hands lay in her dad's... lifeless. I know the Lord gives and I know the Lord takes away. I read it in the bible. I sing it in songs. I understand that is just the way it is. What I don't understand is why. I will probably never know why God has to take away sometimes. See, children do something to you. They fill up your heart like no other person can. They bring you joy that no one else can. They make you a different person. Why would God choose to take a child away from it's parents? I know, I know. Don't question it. God has a plan for us all. We don't always understand our place or why things happen, but God does. I know I'm not supposed to ask "Why?" but I still find myself asking anyway.

I wandered over to the nowIlaymedowntosleep.com site. I wish I hadn't. I read the stories and looked at the pictures of these children that were taken away from their families. I just feel like there is no other pain worse than losing a child. These stories were incredibly sad. If you don't ache for these people reading their stories than you aren't human. It did hit me though that these people are real and aren't just words on my screen, they were people just like Greg and Heather. They knew what these people were feeling. I had to close the site and cried for at least 30 minutes. I got Ella out of the crib where she'd been sleeping for 2 hours. I held her, rocked her and whispered "I love you" in her ear for an hour.

May 6 was a hard day for Greg and Heather. I can't imagine their pain. One month and the pain doesn't get easier. Say a prayer for them and if you see them, hug them and tell them you love them. Maelee is missed.

The broken hearted

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. - Psalms 34:18

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. - Matthew 5:4

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid. - John 14:27

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. - Revelation 21:4

My favorite is this: If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.- 1 Corinthians 12:26

Grieving Maelee

Every now and then, Greg and Heather weigh on my mind more than normal. Tonight is one of those times. I've put my "Grieving Maelee" playlist on and am sitting here thinking. I'm thinking what it was like to hold Maelee, knowing she'd already gone to meet the Lord. I wondered if they unwrapped her and just stared at her little body. I wondered if they ran their hands over every inch of her little body, trying desperately to remember each curve. Did they run their fingers through her red hair and kiss her cheek? Did they, just for a moment, wait to see if she'd open her eyes or cry? Did they keep the blanket from the hospital just to smell her? How could you survive this pain? How do you hold your child and then have to leave without her? It hurts to think about this. It's hard to see through the tears to type, but I wonder these things. It doesn't make sense. Lord, please lay your hands on them. Four weeks ago, Maelee met you. Be with them. The pain is too deep.

Battling against frustration

I'm struggling today. I'm struggling with stress and frustration. I have a to do list that exceeds the sheet of paper. Today, I have a sick child with a temper and a husband with his own to do list (which doesn't have any items that match up with mine). I missed church and I really needed it today. My house is an absolute wreck which means everything has become unsafe for Ella. Let's just say I'm doing more chasing than relaxing (what's new). I'd like to shower. I'd like to fold laundry. I'd like to do just about anything else than be frustrated and stressed out. I need prayers to help me not take this out on everyone around me. I need to put things into perspective, but I'm having a hard time with that right now. I feel like I can't breathe. I need to count my blessings and not put so much pressure myself. Easier said than done.