Where I go from here

A couple of things happened this week that have made me think about this blog. First off, my laptop died. I had put it in sleep mode before I left the house to go get my hair done on Tuesday evening, and when I got home a few hours later and went to turn it on, nothing happened. It went to sleep and just never woke up. Talk about a good way to go.

There are some things on the hard drive that I'm going to try to recover, but pretty much everything is gone. Luckily, most of our family photos are backed up on our external hard drive. But I had filled that up about 6 months ago and we have yet to buy a new one, so some pictures and videos are lost. I won't really know what all is gone until I need something and realize it was on the old laptop. Oh well, it's a tough lesson in backing up your files, I guess.

I had just begun looking into buying a new laptop when I started wondering how we'd afford a new one since it's not really in the budget for a one-family income. Then yesterday, my old boss called and asked if I'd be interested in doing some work from home. $$$ Cha-ching!!! $$$

For 6 months. $$$$$$ CHA-CHING!!! $$$$$$

Yes, please.

Now the only thing I needed to figure out was how I'd do the work with the kids around. She wanted me to think about it and get back to her tomorrow with an idea of how many hours a week I could put in, and when I'd most likely be logging those hours. I started to think about how I could find reliable, low-cost childcare so that I could put in 2-3 hours a day of work and still rake in a decent hourly rate.  I immediately thought of my friend's babysitter she uses a few hours each week and called her up to see if I could hire the highschooler too. She doesn't see why it won't work out. Their family is actually going on vacation for a few weeks so they won't be able to keep her busy all summer, so this might just be the perfect situation for everyone. I'll find out on Sunday if she's interested since she's on vacation this week with her family. If she's up for the job, it could work out perfectly since her rate is right in line with what I wanted to pay and I know she's qualified since she's done a great job watching my friend's kids who are the same ages as mine.

If the babysitter works out, this will help me with the issue of when to do the work because ideally I'd like to be able to do an activity with the kids in the morning or early evening, and get my work in around the lunch hour. That way, I'll still be able to enjoy my summer with the kids, while not feeling like I'm missing out on much with them since my daughter will nap part of the time I'm working.

It's all coming together a little too perfectly. I've got my fingers crossed that the babysitter is interested and available, and that my old boss will pay me what I'm going to ask for.

I'd like to try to keep my evenings free because that is when my husband and I have been doing P90x. We've been getting the kids to bed by 8/8:30pm and then putting in an hour {sometimes an hour & 1/2} of exercise for the past 9 days. It's an intense commitment, but we're both on board and are hoping to see some incredible results by the time we're done. Nine days down, only eighty-one to go.

With all that has been going on, I'm wondering how I am going to continue blogging as much as I used to. I also keep a family blog, which I haven't been able to update nearly as much as the grandparents would like lately. I feel like something has to give right now, and with work {hopefully} starting soon, it's going to have to be this blog.

I've decided I'm going to stop doing link-ups for the time being, as much as I love them and it makes me sad to drop them right now, solely because they take me so much longer than jumping into my dashboard and writing a stream of consciousness. Instead, I'm going to use this space to journal what has been going on with my health and my life and my feelings because that is what's going to work right now.

I created this blog as a place for me to write about my feelings, struggles, and triumphs as a wife and mom raising two small kids. A wife and mother who just happens to be Bipolar Type I. This blog was also developed to serve as a springboard to hopefully publish my memoir someday. I still want to accomplish that goal. I am a young woman living with a mental illness, but I do not feel limited by my diagnosis. I lead a very full, happy, creative, successful life and I want my story to be out there to give hope to other young women who have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

I believe I'm here for a reason. I hope my readers will continue to follow and check in on my blog here because I will continue to be a positive voice in the face of such a misunderstood and stigmatized condition.

Because my diagnosis doesn't define me. It's just a part of me that I have learned to live with.

The people and experiences of my life are what make me who I am.

And the journey will go on.

Brilliantly. Because that's how I roll.

Bad day

You stand in the line just to hit a new lowYou're faking a smile with the coffee to go They tell me your life's been way off line You're falling to pieces every time And I don't need no carryin' on

~ Daniel Powter, lyrics to Bad Day {2005}

This song conjures up all kinds of emotions for me. It debuted in the US in early 2006, right around the time when I had returned to work after my first two hospitalizations. I was fragile. I was sick. The level of anxiety which pulsed through my blood was so high I could barely keep my hands from shaking at times. I had been having many bad days, not just "a" bad day. And this song would come on over the radio on my commute home from the office almost every evening.

The tears would start to flow and it was so hard to get them to stop.

I knew what I had to do, although it broke me to pieces to have to do it.

Resigning from a career I had worked so hard for, I had poured so many hours of my life into, was one of the most difficult {and yet, at the same time, simple} turning points in my life. Only I didn't know it was a turning point at the time.

It felt like I was digging myself a grave to crawl into. Like I would never be ever to build myself up to the high point I had reached in my industry.

I had lost every ounce of confidence that used to flow so easily from my voice, my mannerisms, my personality. Much of 2006 was consumed with crying spells, crippling anxiety, and self-doubt that I would ever be able to return to my former identity.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gH476CxJxfg?rel=0]

When that song comes on the radio these days, I think back on the low moments of my past when I was first diagnosed and realize that I've come a long way.

Man, have I come a long way.

I've learned that there are times in our lives which are going to be uncomfortable, dismal, and scary. We just need to stay positive as much as possible, lean on friends and family for support, and know that there is sunshine after the storm.

Just Write

She just hasn't been herself lately. Her bubbly, sweet as a fresh, juicy strawberry personality has all but disappeared and in its place has left a cranky, clingy, super sad toddler. This has been going on for two days now. The piles of dishes on my kitchen counter are evidence to all of the cuddling we've been doing. It is so much more important to me than the housework right now. My baby's tears make my heart sink. I cannot stand seeing her in pain. The first dose of infant pain medicine took effect after twenty minutes, but it's now wearing off again. And we're right back where we started this day: lots of crying and even more comforting. Big brother and I do everything we can to distract her. We try playing with the wooden toy food and plastic plates on the fuzzy new family room carpet. That helps for a few minutes, but before we know it she's crying again, asking to be picked up by her mama.

We head upstairs so I can get a shower and get us all dressed for the day. I plop her in the portable playpen that has been stationed in our master bedroom for us to be able to accomplish tasks like showering and dressing, as her brother assumes his position next to it with the ipad in front of him. He chooses a fire truck show and I turn on the water full blast.

Five minutes later, as I'm blow drying my naturally curly hair straight, I peek over to find my footie-pajama-clad baby girl laying on her tummy clutching her lovie {paci in her mouth, of course}, fast asleep while her brother's noisy video blares two feet away from her.

Sleep, sweet baby. Rest and let those stubborn new teeth break through your swollen gums so that you're back to my bouncing bundle of trouble and giggles again.

I miss you, Sweetie.

Goals and a look back at an old list for Five Things Friday

This Friday I thought I'd do a little blast from the past.

I've been thinking a lot about goals lately. Back when I was a senior in college, we had to write a list of five goals we wanted to accomplish in the next 10 years. I can almost picture that piece of paper in my mind. Part of me thinks that if I really look hard enough {read: dig through all my piles of junk and clutter} I'd be able to find it. Because I'm pretty sure I saved it.

We were told that by physically writing your goals down on paper you were much more likely to actually attain them compared to simply thinking or talking about them. Something about the act of putting it in writing that makes it seem more real, I guess.

I can remember four of the five things on my senior year list of goals.

1. Get married
2. Buy a house
3. Have kids
4. Make $100k in one year
5. ?

I actually accomplished all of those things in the first five years out of college. But for the life of me, I cannot remember the fifth thing.

It still bugs me.

In the corporate world, I always had goals. It didn't matter whether I had a strict, micro-managing boss, or a laid-back superior who could care less what my numbers looked like. Because to me, I had goals in front of me for the week ahead, for the month, and for the year. If I didn't, my work tended to be just mediocre. By laying out the objectives I wanted to reach or exceed, I pushed myself harder and did higher quality work. My reputation was so important to me. I was always worried about what people thought of me and how they viewed me as a recruiter that I almost needed to better myself with each placement to keep up. It was exhausting. But looking back, I'm very proud of what I accomplished in the ten years I worked.

Now I'm a mom. I'm a wife. I'm a homemaker. I don't care so much what other people think of me, but I do care about feeling that I'm successful in my new career of SAHM. I haven't set goals for myself in over two years. Unless you count the 35-pound weight-loss goal I was determined to accomplish after the birth of my son. {I hit that one, in case you're wondering.}

I'm itching to write some new goals. Given that it's June 1, I thought it was a good date to lay out some monthly goals for the rest of the year. I think I'll stick to three goals for each month, so as not to overwhelm myself.

June

1 Volunteer at a nursing home

2 Start and finish the gardening work around the house (weed all flower beds, lay fresh mulch, hang flower baskets from porch)

3 Run four days a week

 

July

1 Clean and organize garage

2 Carve our initials into the humongous tree that lives beside our house

3 Do a 3-day juice fast

 

August

1 Take a photography class

2 Cook vegan/vegetarian the entire month

3 Repaint the kitchen a bold color 

 

September

1 Create Preschool boxes for each of my kids to collect their artwork and projects

2 Plan a fall {October} wine tour with friends

3 Do a 10-day juice fast

 

October

1 Go on a family camping trip

2 Go to church every week and become more involved by joining a group

3 Finish my manuscript

 

November

1 Be a "Room Mom" for a day at my son's preschool

2 Work hard on my abs and keep them in shape through the holidays

3 Finish holiday shopping and start a new rule that each child gets 3 gifts and each adult gets 1 gift from Santa in order to simplify things and celebrate the true meaning of Christmas

 

December

1 Throw a really awesome holiday party & make it a tradition

2 Format my manuscript into a blog book including my own photography

3 Sponsor a local family for the holidays

 

I'm hoping to hold myself accountable to these goals to be able to look back on the second half of this year and see all that I've accomplished. I think it would be incredibly satisfying to say that I was able to do what I set out to do. Not just for me, but for my family, too.

I'm excited about this. I feel a new energy that I haven't felt in awhile. It's time to rock this list. Let's go.

What do you think? Have you written out any goals since becoming a mom? What do you want to have accomplished by the end of 2012?

Just Write: Making memories

Why is it that whenever we're on a family trip, I neglect to take the pictures I so desperately want to see when I get home and download my camera's memory card to my computer? The past six days we spent visiting the two sides of my husband's family. Despite the heaviness of fatigue that was pulling at my shoulders and making me ache to be in my bed sleeping off the travel, once the kids were in bed I rushed to my computer to dump my camera's contents out so that I could see what I had collected.

My heart sank when I realized that I forgot to get a picture of my father-in-law and his brother with his mom. I missed the chance to get a picture of my husband with his grandma. I barely got any photos of my mother-in-law with her grandkids. And there weren't any pictures of my husband's aunt or his cousins and their kids.

Being the pessimist I am {yet wish I could say the opposite} who always tends to look at the glass half empty, I couldn't help but wonder if that might have been our last visit with his grandma. It may have been our last chance to take pictures with her. Our last chance to see her sweet smile and hear her soft voice tell us stories about when she was a girl.

I'll never know, but I will hold tightly onto the memories of the time we spent together this past week. I will try to think less about the pictures we forgot to take and more about the time we spent together making memories that will last in our minds as long as we can hold onto them.

Just Write

Yesterday morning both kids were completely quiet on the monitor as I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes enough to drag myself out of bed. I took a quick peek at the screen to see my little man sound asleep in his bed, laying on his side towards the wall, and my baby girl silently tracing her cheek with the knotted corner of her super soft lovie blanket. I was excited at the chance to get her up and fed {if I was lucky} before her big brother woke up. He needed the extra sleep since he missed his naps over the weekend. I tip-toed into her room and peered over the rail at the front of her crib. She lay flat on her back, paci securely in her mouth, with her lovie tucked under her arm and its head in her chubby little grip. I smiled and said my usual "Good Morning, my love!" to which she replied with a happy grunt and a quick flip over onto her belly. She popped her bottom in the air and pretended to not want to be picked up.

I snuck out of her room as she was lying face down, and waited a few seconds for her to notice I was missing. She started to whine and I peeked my head into the doorway so she could see me. Instant smiles.

I picked up my little bundle who was zipped up in her sleep blanket, and placed her gently on her changing table. I asked her if she "had a good sleep?" as I normally do. The corners of her pouty mouth crept up slowly into a warm grin {paci still in her mouth} as she pointed to her chin and said, "Mama".

I had spent months watching her point to her head and say, "Dada" ~ her own unique way to use baby sign language to ask for her Daddy.

But today was my day. And I couldn't think of a more fitting day than the day after Mother's Day. I'll treasure that moment forever.

Dear New Mama ~ don't ignore PPP symptoms. Please.

Dear New Mama, My son was four weeks old and I was manic out of my mind in October of 2008. I was somehow able to hide it so well from everyone close to me, my parents, my best friend, my therapist, even my husband. No one knew but me. But who was I kidding? I couldn’t go on like this, and I knew it. The week after he was born I had broken down crying to my mom, handing her my cell phone pleading with her to call my OB to ask her what I could take to help me sleep. I had been off all medication (except pain meds from the C-section) since October of 2007. A full year with no medication at all: a recipe for disaster for anyone diagnosed as having bipolar disorder two years prior. But I was doing it for the baby. My husband and I both wanted a medication-free pregnancy, and then I wanted to breastfeed and did not want to expose the baby to medications that would come through in the breastmilk.

The first month, I had slept maybe 2-4 hours a night and it was catching up with me fast. I'd take two Tylenol PM and would get a few hours of sleep, but woke up, as I usually did since the baby was born, in a sweaty panic – I just knew he needed to be fed even though he was usually sound asleep at the time. I was trying desperately to make breastfeeding work, but we were struggling. He had lost weight since we left the hospital and the pediatrician forced us to supplement with formula but I was determined. I was so afraid of failing. My best friend was my cheerleader, urging me to keep going, visiting when she could to offer helpful tips and encouragement. My husband was also supportive and we knew it was risky being off medication in order to breastfeed, but we had decided to try it. My parents had arrived two days after the baby was born and were planning on staying a week before heading back down to Florida. When they realized how little sleep I was getting, they were worried and my mom pushed out her return trip by five days. After nearly two weeks of help from my parents, my husband’s parents, friends cooking dinners for us, and my husband being off from work, I had to learn to do it on my own. It is so foggy, those first four weeks, but we took pictures so I could remember. I did it on my own for two weeks, three days. Then the shit hit the fan.

The statistic was 1 out of 1,000. I never thought I'd be that one person who was dealt the postpartum psychosis card. I mean, what are the chances, right? But I guess I really should have seen it coming, having been diagnosed with bipolar disorder only two years earlier.

So, you may be wondering, how did I know that I was experiencing postpartum psychosis? Well, at the moment I didn't. I just knew that how I was feeling couldn't be right.

I was dead-set on breastfeeding, and therefore, was the sole source of milk for the baby so I had to be up every two to three hours. The process of changing his diaper, changing his outfit if he had leaked, swaddling him back up, feeding him on the boob, burping him, and settling him back down took me about forty-five minutes each time. Therefore, I had an hour or so to try to sleep before he would wake again, but instead of sleeping, despite what should have been my intense exhaustion, I would rush around the house doing laundry or dishes or I'd pump to try to get my body to produce more milk so that I could store it. It was as if my body had surpassed the exhaustion phase, and I was now invincible. I was starting to believe that I didn't even need sleep. I also felt super smart - like my brain was functioning at a superior level. Having never been a stellar student in any stage of my schooling, it was weird, to say the least.

During the fourth week, before I was eventually hospitalized, I started experiencing hallucinations. Mostly things are fuzzy, but one I can actually remember is from the morning that my husband finally realized he needed to commit me. I had woken up several times during the night but just stayed in bed listening to the sounds of trucks driving along the highway not too far from our house, hoping to fall back asleep. When the dawn broke and light started filtering in through the mini blinds, the alien spaceship that was hanging from the center of our bedroom (aka: the ceiling fan) began to spin, illuminate, and hover towards me. I shook with fear. But kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want my husband sending me to the hospital. I had to keep feeding my baby. We had just started to “get it” and he was doing well. I was actually enjoying the bonding time it created between me and the baby.

THANK GOD my husband got help. He had to call 911 because he wasn't able to get me to agree to go in the car to the hospital, let alone take medication. I was so lucky, because he knew the signs to look for from my two previous manic episodes, and he wasn't afraid (or too proud) to admit that I needed medical attention. Specifically, anti-psychotics. Stat. And although I never had thoughts of wanting to harm my baby, who knows if those could have been the next thoughts to enter my mind had we waited any longer to get help.

What I want you to know, mama, is that if you ever experience symptoms similar to mine after the birth of your baby, please don't feel ashamed about it. Don't ignore the signs. Have your husband or partner read about them too, so they can be as prepared as you are. Knowing what you know now about postpartum psychosis is half the battle. The other half is being open to accepting the help you need to get better for you so that you can be there for your baby. I did, and I'm so thankful because it was the best decision my husband and I did for our family, and continue to do, each and every day.

The medication I take keeps me "in the middle", as we in my family like to refer to it. I ended up taking it, under the close supervision of both my psychiatrist, OB-GYN, and high-risk OB-GYN, during my second pregnancy and we were blessed with a precious baby girl who has completed our family. I continue to take my medication, see my psychiatrist and therapist regularly, and lean on the support of my husband, parents, and close friends in order to keep my mental health in check.

I wish you all the happiness in the world as you meet your new little bundle of joy. I know that you'll turn out to be one incredible mama. Just like I did.

Much love,

Jennifer aka BipolarMomLife

The 4th Annual Mother’s Day Rally for Moms’ Mental Health is presented by Postpartum Progress, a national nonprofit 501c3 that raises awareness & advocates for more and better services for women who have postpartum depression and all other mental illnesses related to pregnancy and childbirth. Please consider making a donation today, on Mother’s Day, to help us continue to spread the word and support the mental health of new mothers.

From my little man & Five Things Friday

Little man brought this home from preschool yesterday in honor of Mother's Day.  I guess my new healthy eating routine is rubbing off on him. :) The other side is a poem about his fingerprints, along with a purple glittery impression of his little paws. I'd type it out for you, but I think it would make me cry again, so I'll leave it up to your imagination. My mom still has something similar to this from when I was in preschool. I will treasure it and will keep it forever. This is one for the baby book, for sure.

To go with this beautiful paper treasure, he presented me also with a door hanger that says "Do Not Disturb" which he decorated with stickers so that I could use it "when you need your quiet time, Mommy". AWESOME gift. I am in love. And feel so very blessed.

My Five Things for Friday:

1. We're going to our first outdoor concert of the year tonight and I cannot wait!
2. Tomorrow our new carpet gets installed and I'm thinking it might feel like we're living in a new house since I just finished painting the dining room yesterday. Pretty cool!
3. The weather is gorgeous and I'm excited for the beginning of summer. Who isn't?!
4. I am so over baby girl's canine teeth. Come in already, suckas! Poor baby is so fussy, I can't imagine what she's going through. Hopefully another week and they'll have cut through her sore gums.
5. Sunday is Mother's Day {as I'm sure you're all aware} and I'm excited to be participating in Postpartum Progress' 4th Annual Mother's Day Rally for Moms' Mental Health. Just finished my letter last night and I'm really proud of it. Look for it here on Sunday, and also on Postpartum Progress at 5am. A huge thank you goes out the Katherine Stone for creating the rally and being the driving force behind advocating for women with mental illnesses related to pregnancy and childbirth.

Happy weekend everyone!

A Mother's Day memory

In the spring of 2008, my bulging mid-section was the giveaway that I was five months pregnant with my first child. We had just moved in to our first single-family home the month prior, and had excitedly invited our parents over for a Mother's Day brunch to celebrate. Mine were up visiting from Florida, and were staying with us for the weekend. My mom had brought her lapdog with her, a toy poodle she had called her baby ever since she brought him home when my brother and I were in high school. That Saturday night as she took the dog out for a walk before calling it a night, she accidentally left the front door open when it didn't catch the latch, and our cat slipped out of the house, undetected. In the morning, the house buzzed with the excitement of Mother's Day and the brunch that my husband and I were cooking for our moms. I was slicing fresh strawberries for yogurt parfaits, when I heard my husband ask if I had seen the cat lately. I hadn't, and we both thought it was strange since he was usually roaming around the house, stopping to rub his head against any shin he could find in the morning especially.

We immediately began searching the house for him. Calling his name and peeking under beds turned up nothing, and so we put two and two together and realized he must have gotten out the night before. The search party was on, as we began walking and then running through our new neighborhood to try to find our precious bundle of fur, our first baby.

 After half and hour of searching we still couldn't find him. I called my in-laws and asked them to come over earlier so that they could help us look for him. I was in tears as I raced up and down the streets in our little subdivision, while my husband shook a package of treats to try to lure him home. Another thirty minutes passed, and I started to really get scared. My husband said we should drive behind the neighborhood by the highway to see if he was out there. Dead probably, was my first thought. My poor baby!

He quickly drove us the five minutes to the busy freeway, but there was no sign of him, thank God. We rushed back home so that I could start calling the animal shelters in our area to see if anyone had turned him in. I was back outside, walking the sidewalk with my cell glued to my ear, trying to comprehend the questions the woman at the shelter was asking me. My eyes were scanning the perimeters around me for any sign of my white and orange tiger-like fur ball.

All of sudden I saw him. His white face and orange ears peeking out from beneath our backyard neighbor's deck.

"Riley!" I shouted, with no regard for the woman I was talking with at the shelter. "I found him! He's here!" A wave of relief swept over me, as I thanked her for her time and scooped him up in my arms at the same time.

His white fur was brown with dirt, damp from the humidity that was in the air. But he appeared to be in perfect shape, other than a little scared. Looked as if he had spent the night under the deck, so he hadn't wandered too far. Just wanted a taste of freedom, I guess.

That day is so vivid in my memory because I remember thinking, "so this is what it must feel like to lose a child in a crowded park or mall". My motherly instincts were so strong, even though I was not yet a mother myself. I wrapped my arms around my swollen belly that evening in bed and made a promise to protect my baby with all that I have, forever and ever.

Could that be me someday?

As I sat in the audience this afternoon and listened intently to the fourteen mothers on stage pour their hearts and souls out during their time at the mic, I couldn't help but wonder:

Could I actually do that? Could that be me someday?

My mother-in-law and I arrived early, and snagged great seats - front and center - to take it all in. As the theater filled up, the room began to buzz with excitement. I heard a song playing that I had suggested via Twitter to Stephanie, the show's Director, last week when she asked "What's your favorite song about motherhood or makes you think about your babies?" Instantly, I thought of the video montages I've made on each of the kids' birthdays and tweeted back, "Let Them Be Little by Billy Dean, Don't Blink by Kenny Chesney, and It Won't Be This Way for Long by Darius Rucker," which were three of my favorites that I had used as background music for those videos of my precious babies.

A few more songs played, and I took another look around to see that practically every seat was taken. Finally, the show was about to start.

Minutes later, as the first presenter spoke, you could feel the emotion in the air. Everyone was focused on the stage and the woman who, at that moment, commanded the microphone. The roar of applause as each speaker finished was the audience's way of thanking each woman for sharing so much of her life with us. For telling us what was inside of her heart.  Not just anyone could get up on stage in front of several hundred people to talk about her family, her kids, her struggles through motherhood.

There were stories that we could all relate to, ones of sleepless babies, sibling tae kwon do classes and family dinner hour gone awry no matter how hard you try. Tales of how hard it is for one mama to drop her preschooler off at school, of how another mom is trying to teach her children that calling someone {or even something} "stupid" is not nice, it hurts feelings, and of how it just may be okay to take your 8-yr old to Hooters for his birthday if he's that persistent about it.

And then there were more unique stories of a child with Autism and his passion for trying his hardest to keep pace with his peers in third grade, of battling and beating cancer to become a stronger person than she'd ever imagined, two separate accounts of miscarriage and how the women were able to mourn their losses and eventually conceive again, giving birth and becoming the mothers they so desperately wanted to be, and a heart-wrenching outpouring of a mother's deep longing, from during her childhood, to just be normal. But then how in the world does a young mother who just lost her 12-yr old son in a tragic accident find normal in the midst of heavy grief?

Each of these stories had the audience captivated during and proud at the end. We laughed out loud, we cried, we nodded in agreement to so many points in the stories we heard.

But how would the audience react to a mother telling her story about how she fought mental illness and won? How, at 26 years old, newly married and climbing the ranks of a successful recruiting career, this young woman crumbled because of a manic breakdown. And when she started picking the pieces up months later, how she faced the reality of countless psychiatrist and therapist appointments trying to figure out just what was wrong with her and how the medication she was on made her so scared she would never be able to have kids that she sunk into the lowest point in her life, a depression that lasted a full year.

I think it would be a gripping story. Especially since I know how it turned out in the end.

But could I actually get up there and tell it to a live audience? That we'll have to wait and see, my friends.

My hope is that with another year of writing under my belt, I'll be that much more confident in my voice and my story.

Because I think it's an important one to tell.

Someday.

Listen to Your Mother DC

Tomorrow is going to be an awesome day. First up, I'm getting up at the crack of dawn to run a 5k. Nothing like getting your workout done first thing in the morning, right? If I'm lucky the hubby will get the kids up and dressed in time to see me cross the finish line. This would be a huge accomplishment for him, considering they were not able to find the finish line at the last 5k I ran back in October, so instead he took them through the drive-thru of McDonald's for breakfast on the way home. Way to feed them a wholesome breakfast, hun! We all know how complicated it is for Dads to get their kids out of bed, fed and dressed (forget the tooth-brushing) before 8am. {This race is actually at the same location as the last one, but still, I'm not holding my breath.}

Next, it's home to shower and get ready to go to lunch with my sister-in-law and mother-in-law before heading over to the theater to see

Can't wait to see these incredible women speak! Maybe next year I'll have enough guts to audition to be part of the cast of LTYMDC 2013.

I hope so.

The most important words

{Words} I am the type of person that needs to hear certain words at times in my life. If I don't, I feel lonely and sad. If I do, I am able to persevere, no matter how difficult the challenge I am faced with.

{I am sorry}

{I support you}

{It's going to be okay}

{I missed you}

{Money is not important}

{We can get through this}

{I am here for you, no matter what}

{I love you}

To me, those last three words are the most important, by far. They can substitute, in a pinch, for all the others, and they make those other phrases even more warm and fuzzy when said together.

But for me, if I never heard any other words in my life but "I love you", I'd get along just fine.

I make it a point to say it to my husband and kids throughout the day because it makes everyone feel good. To know you are loved has got to be one of the best feelings in the world. I know it is for me.

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