34

Today is my thirty fourth birthday.  34.  I remember turning 30 and feeling like that was such a big deal.  Soon I'll be 35, then 40, then more.  The years will keep ticking on (God willing).

This year has been hard.  I've stopped writing almost altogether because I've always been an honest writer and to be honest about how hard life has been lately feels like too much. I miss writing though so I need to get over this hump so I can get back to it.  Documenting my life used to bring me so much joy.  I need that joy now.

I have always wanted to be a mom.  I still remember the wintry walk that Ian and I took when we decided to start our family. Weeks later Ainsley was on her way and it was never a second thought that I would stay home.  I remember wishing that I looked more pregnant, sooner.  I was so elated to be pregnant.  That time waiting to become a mom was so filled with excitement and anticipation.

Then Ainsley was born.  It was traumatic and so fast.  I almost didn't make it to the hospital in time.  My newborn girl had such a voice.  She screamed and screamed and screamed.  She didn't like to be held when she was awake.  She was happiest on her own lying on the floor.  I was frantic and hurried all the time.  She walked so early and never stopped running.  My heart still stops when I can't find her.  She is so quick, always has been.  It wasn't what I thought it would be.

But we had Louise anyways.  We were so thick in it and it felt like the right time.  She was so easy and sweet and calm.  She laughed so much, needed so little.  How did these two girls come from the same two of us?

Then Felix.  A perfect mix.  A mommy and daddy's boy.  Sweet and sensitive and strong and sometimes naughty.  He's almost 5.  I know our family is complete.

I was ready for, excited for, the baby years.  I knew how to swaddle and feed and soothe and play.  These big kid days are hard.  Wrought with fights about homework and obedience and helpfulness and friend problems.  It's not what I thought it would be.

Moving was traumatic for the girls.  It was not normal.  Ainsley's first grade teacher told us she'd never seen a child have a harder time transitioning.  We've heard that a lot with her.  "We've never seen this".  It's especially hard when we live in a world where people gush and ooze love about their children at every turn.  Instagramming about accomplishments, facebooking about perfection.  There is none of that here.

I used to feel like a good mom.  Now I feel completely out of control.

I was rediagnosed with depression and anxiety 18 months ago.  I spent a year on medication that took my panic attacks away and let me drive again, but that made me so tired that I spent most afternoons lying on the couch while Felix played on the ipad next to me.  Nothing instagram worthy about that.

I felt ashamed, embarrassed, bad.

I found a new psychiatrist this year.  I'm on new medication that works better.  But it's not a cure-all. Life is still hard.

This is the part where I usually stop writing and let the post sit dormant.  I promised to push through right?

Right now we're...looking into new schools, going to therapy twice a week, fighting every day about every day things like getting ready for school and taking medication and doing homeownet and not lying and not hitting or biting.

Right now life is harder than normal and harder than "harder than normal".  How do you take care of a hurting kid when you are hurting so much yourself?  How do you stand up when you are broken?  How do you make friends and connections when you know that no one really knows how bad it is?  How do you get out of the fog and into the sunlight?

I'm learning that you take baby steps. As much as it SUCKS you take it slow.  You cling to the things that are working and praise the heck out of the good and right.

For me right now this is the church family that we have found and the family family that we have so close.  It's feeling silly listening to the guided self worth meditations that your therapist recommends and praying like crazy that they take hold.  It's learning to grow a back bone and stand up for yourself and your kid, and the sad realization that not everyone is on your side.  It's having the strength and confidence to know that my gut feelings are worth something and no one can tell me the right thing to do.

Growing up is so hard.  I still feel so young.  But my eyelids are drooping and my eyes lines are growing and my body is slowing.  I don't feel equipped, almost every day, to be dealing with what we are dealing with.  Still I am.  We get through each day. 

This past weekend we went to Big Sky, MT.  My parents have a home there and we decided last minute that we needed that changed of venue, that injection of different and beauty and fun into our lives.  We had such a wonderful time. 

But on both sides of the trip were 19 hour treacherous drives.  Ian drove it all.  He had to because I'd broken my tail bone and couldn't sit to drive, but he never complained.  I look at this man that I've known almost 15 years and realize more every day how lucky I am to have him, how lucky we are to be together doing this life. 

I remember meeting him and hearing that voice that you hear of that told me I was going to marry him.  My 19 year old self shrugged it off and those next 4 years were tumultuous but they taught me to listen to that voice. 

Right now that voice is a bit muddled. It's hard to decipher. But I'm reminded that it's there.  I just need to quite myself to hear it.

May 34 be a year unlike any other.  Please, please, please.