With A Little Help From My Friends

One of the things that I’m blessed to do at work is teach a class called Understanding the Dynamics of Poverty. The class is aimed at educating about the causes and effects of both situational and generational poverty. In the class, one of the things we discuss is that people who live in poverty often lack resources and not just financial resources. They may have limited access to things like transportation and technology. They may not have many people that can help them and offer support in times of need. So far this weekend I’ve great reminders of how fortunate I am to have my support group and how close any of us could be to serious financial or life troubles.

My mental health hasn’t been great lately. I struggle with anxiety and depression with a large helping of ADHD on top. It’s easy to get overwhelmed by my circumstances and surroundings, especially working full time and having kids who are tiny tornadoes. The Hubs works an average of 60 hours a week and has his own mental health struggles to tackle. This can often lead to a messy house that gets out of hand fast. It’s not unusual for the clothes to pile up and the toys to end up everywhere and the sink to get full. I get overwhelmed and contemplate lighting it all on fire or running away. For a short time we had the finances to bring in two lovely ladies to help with cleaning and organizing but those days are gone. This week was pretty rough, so I put my many hours of therapy to work and asked for help.

My awesome neighbor let me borrow his lawn mower to cut our grass yesterday. We’d let it grow during the winter to help bring pollinators to the yard but it was time for a cut and The Hubs is out of town. I knew that cutting the grass would make it easier for me to clean the house because I’d be able to send the girls outside to play. It would also make it easier for me to spend some time in the garden, something that always helps my mental health. So, for the first time in my life I cut the grass. It wasn’t easy but it was really satisfying. (10/10 would recommend looking into an electric mower if you’re looking for a new lawnmower and don’t have a huge yard.) I finally understand why my Dad has been obsessed with his yard for years. It doesn’t look perfect but I accomplished my main goals.


While I was still in a great mood, I reached out to my Bonus Mom for help with the laundry that had been piling up. She came over early this morning and folded laundry while I caught up on dishes. Having someone there to talk to made it easier to focus on one thing instead of bouncing around all over the house and getting overwhelmed before giving up. She was able to get the laundry to a much more manageable point and even introduced me to some new, happy music. The girls were excited to see her too.

In the process of putting away laundry, I happened to look up and see that we had some water damage and mold on the ceiling of our closet. About a month ago, Donny had to patch a small hole in our roof from a dropped limb. We didn’t know how long the hole had been there and didn’t see any damage to the ceiling initially. Apparently our assessment was wrong and the insulation had retained some moisture. I knew we needed to remove the sheet rock and nasty insulation ASAP before the damage spread. I’ve patched small holes before but never something like this. I sent a message to a friend of mine who I knew was good at home repairs and asked for help. He came over and fixed the damage for me without hesitation. He even fixed another spot on the wall that needed patching.

Gross! 🤮🤢

I couldn’t have done all of those things without my support system. I would have been stuck struggling to break out of my mental health cycle. My friends and family were happy to lend their tools and time to help me better my home environment. Without them, I would still have an overgrown yard, a couch covered in laundry, an overflowing sink of dishes, and mold spreading in my house. So many people lack the support system they need or the ability to ask for help when they need it. It’s so easy to let mental health drag you into despair and darkness and even harder to fight your way out. If you see a friend struggling, find a way to take something off their plate. If you feel like you need help, just ask. Make sure your people know how much you love them and appreciate them.

Is It Bedtime Yet?

Despite the fact that I’m desperately working on trying to get my ducks in a row, my ducks still look very much like squirrels who are running around like it’s Armageddon. (Case in point, I kept trying to write ducks but typed dicks twice. Send wine.) Anyway, today has been a freaking beast. So much so that a friend encouraged me to share my story, and who better to share it with than you, Dear Reader?

My day started a little earlier than normal. Last night The Twins requested that I wake them up early so they could have cereal before we left for school. (A recent obsession with cereal containing marshmallows has overtaken their tiny brains.) Always one to try my best to make my mornings easier by means of bribery, I acquiesced. They shot out of bed excited for cereal and I made my way to the kitchen to fix it. Things seemed to be going well until I opened the refrigerator door to see that it wasn’t running. Last night the refrigerator and the herb garden that shares its outlet unexpectedly shut down, I thought I’d tripped the breaker and made the mistake of trusting the twins to tell me when the light came back on as I tried flipping the possible switches. (Our house was built in the 70’s so we can’t trust the breaker labels or the wiring in the house.) Little boogers lied. The light did not come on and I was too dumb to double check. Fortunately, the refrigerator was still icy cold on the inside so no loss there.

I called my Dad for advice and set to finding an extension cord to plug the refrigerator into another outlet. Turns out it was an outlet problem not a breaker problem. Live, learn, and make your husband fix it when he comes home right? With the refrigerator back up and running I set to work on making that cereal. In a moment of adventurousness I decided to serve it in cups instead of bowls so it wouldn’t get spilled. I served the cereal to my very excited monsters and started my bath. We were now running slightly behind schedule but not terribly so.

As I made my move to hop in the tub I heard a shriek from my bed. The Conqueror spilled her cereal….on my freshly laundered bed. I moved to strip the bed before the milk could get to the sheets and proceeded to traipse around my house butt naked praying that the neighbor wouldn’t come outside and see me through the curtain-less living room window. I told the girls to get off my bed and eat their cereal standing up while I put the comforter in the laundry room. Another shriek from my room alerted me to a now completely spilled cup of cereal all over my floor. As I cleaned up the mess The Conqueror decided to take advantage of my warm bath and hop right in to wash the milk off.

I shooed her out of my bath and told her to get dressed while I cleaned off. I took a deep breath and hoped that smooth sailing lay ahead. My hopes hit the fan when I got out of the tub and realized that I couldn’t find one pair of the girls shoes. Normally the shoes they wore wouldn’t matter much but today they were retaking their spring pictures at school and I’d already promised they could wear their fancy shoes. In the process of madly searching, I also realized that my keys were MIA. The time seemed to be passing with increasing rapidity and my lizard brain began to take the wheel. Lizard brain Mom = cranky crazy Mom who yells.

Hair styling time turned into me yelling at The Conqueror for throwing a fit about her hair style. Then we both cried because I yelled. I apologized and we moved on. One girl settled for boots instead of fancy shoes and I found my keys outside (God knows why). When we finally got in the car, (irreversibly late by this point), I was so frazzled that we got down the road before I realized that The Hun wasn’t even buckled in.

Thankfully my friends at work were comforting and helped me laugh, and the kids seem to have survived the morning unscathed. It’s been a long day so when we got home I treated myself to some time in the garden and let the girls jump on the trampoline. We’re having hotdogs and fruit for dinner because at this point I’m just trying to survive until bedtime.

Blessings and prayers to all you Mom’s and Dad’s out there who were driving an out of control struggle bus today. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to make it through. Bedtime approaches. I love you all.

New Year’s Day!

Eight years ago (my God has it really been eight years?!) I got my heart broken on New Years Eve. A couple days later I adopted The Little Bad Dog and five months later I met the love of my life. Six months after that I met my oldest children and so on and so forth. The ripple effect of love that was pushed into action at exactly the right moment started with a broken heart. If you’d asked me eight years ago where I’d be now I would have probably cried at you and shrieked something about being a lonely old hag. (It was a rough time, don’t judge me.)

I awoke this morning in Crazy Eyes’ bed, but not at my house. I was in her bed at her Mom’s house. Who would’ve thought I’d ever say that? Not me that’s for sure. We’ve spent the last couple New Years Eve’s together as a big weird family. Because of their Mom and Bonus Dad’s generosity and openness, (plus a little shove from The Hubs to get over my anxiety) our kids get to ring in the New Year with all of their parents and siblings together. Last night we had some insane fog come through and ended up having to stay the night. A strange way to start the New Year but not a bad way. We’ve come so far since the early days of our blended family. I’ve made mistakes along the way and learned a lot. I’m grateful for all of it.

I don’t have any predictions for 2023. If I’ve learned anything over the years it’s that I’m no fortune teller. I have falsely predicted the next year’s happenings over and over again. (2020 was for sure a bad prediction!) So for 2023 instead of making guesses, I pray for continued growth and in Thanksgiving for the blessings I’ve received. I pray that all of my family and friends stay healthy and happy. I pray that the work I do helps others. I pray for continued healing for myself and for those around me who are on our mental health journeys. I pray that 2023 is filled with laughter and joy.

Love to you all! -Diana

Family Updates

Dear Dedicated Readers, after almost a year, I think it’s time to begin writing again. I’d thought my days of blogging were done, but I’ve been feeling the call again so here we are. A lot has changed over the past year, too much to fit into one post for sure so for now we’ll settle for an update on the members of the raucous crew I call a family.

The Boy:

My God this child has gotten to be a giant! At 10 years old he’s nearly my height (not that my height is impressive but it is for a ten year old). He wears men’s sized clothing and shoes now. He is inventive and creative in ways we only could have dreamed of. He loves cardboard boxes and legos and drawing. He’s even teaching himself how to play the keyboard. We never know what he’s going to come up with next. Praise God, he hasn’t lost his sweet, kind heart. He loves animals and insects and wants to protect them. He is obsessed with horror movie classics and ghost stories. He’s the best son a Bonus Mom could ask for even if he’s a stinky 10 year old who pretends my kisses are gross and my hugs are no longer cool.

Proudly showing off his awards for his standardized test scores.

Crazy Eyes:

At eight years old she has somewhat grown into her eyes but they are still most definitely crazy and she loves it. I love this child. In fact, I don’t think I’ve met a single person who wasn’t drawn in by her quirky, loving personality. She is the best sister on the planet. The Boy is her A1 since day 1 but to her three little sisters (her Mom has had an adorable addition to the family) she is the Sun and Moon. If the Twins walk into a room full of family and Crazy Eyes is there, she’s who they’re running to first. She’s funny and creative and always on the move. Her heart is pure and kind. She is boisterous and loud but uses it to hide a softer side. She’s become quite the artist and leader. She’s charismatic and I can’t wait to see where that leads her.

Showing off the “fake nails” she made for herself out of stickers.

The Hun:

Ya’ll this child is going to be the one who puts me in the looney bin and she’s not even 5. I love her madly but Christ she makes me crazy. She is fierce and wild and speaks her mind. She makes up for it by being so damn snuggly. Her only volume is 11. She has developed a love for Punk Rock (specifically the Ramones) and Pop music, the louder the better. Pink is still most definitely her color and yet despite being super girly she’s always the kid who seems to find the dirt, grease, or mud first. Her imaginary friend is named “Ghostie” and is just as raucous as she is. I kick said friend out of the house or car at least once a week. She also tells me frequently that “God made me like to talk a lot and not sleep.” Hard to argue with that. As tough as she pretends to be, The Hun is soft hearted and can’t seem to go more than a few minutes at home without a kiss or a snuggle.

She loves a her snuggly stuffed animals.

The Conqueror:

Ah my little quiet child. She’s the Sun to The Hun’s Moon. She loves snuggles on her terms and, like her Mommy, enjoys soft blankets and bed time. While her twin is all about the quick comeback, The Conqueror plays the long game and is hilarious when she decides to make her joke. She is shy and observant and often gravitates toward her older brother when we’re out and about. Those two are little introverts in a sea of loud mouthed extroverts. Turn on the music though and all shyness vanishes. She loves to boogie. She’s been known to get up from the dinner table and dance if a song that she likes comes on. Her sweet shyness is balanced by her temper. She’s a scrapper that one. Thankfully, she’s also quick to apologize.

Pure joy.

The Hubs:

This man has worked himself silly this year helping his Dad to build their business. He’s been working on his mental health too thanks to some support from wonderful friends and family who finally convinced him to go to the VA. It’s been a long journey and it’s one that we’ll be on for a long time, but it’s been worth it. He’s having to learn how to live without anxiety and PTSD ruling his every thought and action and that can be difficult. As always, he’s constantly tinkering with something new and learning new skills. I know exactly where my kids inquisitive and investigative tendencies come from. He does a great job of supporting all of our hobbies and interests, especially the kids. After 6 years of marriage I still love him.

Súper Daddy at Oktoberfest with his stylist, The Hun.


There’s so much to say and too little time today. This year has been one of growth and healing. I’ve been taking anti anxiety meds and going to therapy and it’s changed my life. My entire family has been incredibly supportive of this journey. I’m learning how to live life in new ways and with more joy. Therapy has helped me to become a more patient mother and to take better care of myself. My journey was what made me step back from the blog for a little while but I feel like I’m ready to begin sharing again. In addition to my mental health journey, my career has grown into something I never imagined but adore. I get to work with companies and train their managers on soft skills like communication and kindness. (That’s the short version). I’ve kept up gardening but stopped making soap. I’ve taken up building Lego sets instead.

Trying, and failing, to look like a bad ass.

I could go on for days but I’ll save that for other posts. Thank you to everyone who has supported me and my family this year. Thank you to my dedicated readers who reached out and told me how much they missed my stories and posts. Your kind words mean so much to me. I love you all!

New Nose

Hello 2022!

It’s only fitting that I start the new year with a poop story. So here goes.

My Twins are obsessed with me. Like crazy stalker obsessed. They follow me everywhere demanding snacks, juice, bubble gum, and hugs whining “Mommy I neeeeeeedd you!” all the while.

As you can imagine, they are more than happy to ignore bathroom privacy etiquette. Mom’s everywhere know my pain. There is no cure for it. Locks on the doors only cause more disruption in my experience so, in our house, the little terrorists just waltz right in. Today, as usual, I tried my best to sneak off to the bathroom for a nice quiet potty and, as usual, my hopes were shattered.

The only difference today was that one Twin fell asleep early and her more assertive and demanding sister jumped on the opportunity to have Mommy to herself with intensity. I did my best to try and convince her to leave. Rather than opt for the much tried and failed, “please get out,” or “Mommy would like to potty by herself,” I decided to try a technique that usually works for my husband. I loudly and with confidence declared, “Ooo Girl! Get out! Mommy is pooping and it stinks!” She immediately turned on her heels and departed.

I sat silently on my throne and smirked, feeling victorious and happy to have a moment’s peace. Clearly, I thought, The Hubs has it all figured out. My peace was shattered as quickly as it had arrived though. Before I could try again to make the tiny human leave, she held up something that made me laugh.

In her tiny hand she proudly held aloft a new nose. She’d found a plastic nose from a set of those silly glasses that have noses attached and brought it to me. “Here Mommy! Now you have a new nose!” I promptly put it on and snapped a picture while she glowed with pride at her own inventiveness. I have to admit, it was pretty funny and creative. I guess sometimes the interruptions are worth it.

Happy New Year everyone! May your 2022 be filled with unexpected laughter and creativity!

It Takes A Village…

I’ve always heard the phrase “it takes a village to raise a child” and automatically assumed that translated into directly helping to raise the children. I wasn’t wrong, but I missed part of the value of a village as well. You see, I’ve been struggling lately. Work is amazing, my Husband is doing much better, and the kids are all healthy, but Mommy is on the struggle bus. I’ve felt very burned out. I’ve had to call in The Village not because there is something wrong with my kids, but because I need the help for me.

For God knows what dumb reason, I thought that once I got past the infant stage it wasn’t okay to ask for help anymore. (Not that I was great at doing it then either.) So I’ve gone past survival mode and fallen into burnout mode. I started comparing myself to other Moms. Started comparing my kids to other kids. Let myself believe the lies and in doing so failed to see the beautiful truths. The truth is, my kids are doing great, but Mommy needs a leg up. Three is a rough age and these girls are pushing every button that I’ve got and even some I didn’t know that I had.

They are wild and wacky and terribly three.

Over the past month my Village has stepped in to help in big giant amazing ways. My parents helped watch the kids so we could celebrate our five year wedding anniversary early. Three days without kids!!! We saw KISS in concert, toured Port Hudson, did a night tour at The Myrtles (haunted plantation), visited The World War II Museum, and ate so much food. It was incredible. And it gave me just enough of a reset to realize that I was doing a crap job of taking care of myself.

Taking a walk around Port Hudson

The other night each of our four kids had their own adult helping with homework (seriously why is there so much homework?!). Everyone needs their own homework squad. It was the least stressful homework experience with all four kids that I’ve ever had. I would have been pulling my hair out otherwise because everyone had their own set of issues and everyone needed help at the same time. Our Village stepped in without me even having to ask and got it done.

The Boy gets help with Math while Crazy Eyes gets quizzed for Social Studies in the back.

But beyond taking care of my kids and therefore taking care of me, my Village has been there for me directly. They’ve listened to my tears, read my pissed off texts, and offered advice and help. The Ya-ya’s, my best friends, The Hubs, and my family have been the Village that this grown up child has very much needed. Thanks to them I’ve finally made the Doctor’s appointment to talk about my anxiety that I’ve been putting off. Thanks to them I’ve made the conscious effort to be more kind to myself and less rude. They have helped to take care of me so that I can be a better Mom for my children.

My heart breaks for the Moma and Dads out there who don’t have their Village and I pray that they find the support that they need. And if you’re struggling like me, please swallow your pride or fear or whatever is holding you back and ask for help. You and your kids deserve it.

Oh, and PS. When your friends invite you to do cool things like drink wine with sloths, DO IT! Don’t let anxiety fake you out or let feelings of obligation to your kids stop you from having a night with your friends. You’re worth it!


September Thoughts

I have miraculously been granted a moment of peace by the entire family and so it is with great pleasure that I take some time to relax and gather my many scattered thoughts.

September has held a shadow of sadness for me for almost as long as I can remember. The terrorist attacks on 9/11 are seared into my brain. Like many, I’m well past the age where more of my life has been lived after 9/11 than before it. Yesterday marks ten years since my Uncle Ricky left this earth. My Dad put it best when he said, “Doesn’t seem like 10 years but some days it feels like forever.” I’ve now spent 1/3 of my life without someone that means so much to me. My husband struggles in September too. His brother’s birthday was in September and every year that passes is a reminder of a life cut short.

Yet, I can’t discount the gifts that come with September’s march across time. The cooler weather is truly a Godsend, especially in South Louisiana. While other parts of the country are craving the smell and flavor of pumpkin spice, we’re itching to fire up the gumbo pots. We watch the weather forecast praying for enough cool days in a row to justify heating up the entire house all day. We jumped the gun a little in our house this year and had to crank the AC down while we ate our gumbo in shorts. 10/10 would do it again. It’s also time to make my mustard green soup as many times as I can.

Can’t go wrong with 14 quarts of chicken and sausage gumbo! The Hubs is the best!

As an adult, September has brought with it a feeling of calm before the storm. Holidays now mean balancing work and family and trying to keep all of your ducks in a row so you don’t go insane. I think that’s why Halloween has become one of my favorite holidays. There’s less cooking, less to buy, and fewer logistics to sort out. Also, candy corn pumpkins are dope and you candy corn haters are just gonna have to deal with it. I start decorating for Halloween in September so I can drag the joy out a little longer. (Don’t worry though, the yard decorations are lined up for Thanksgiving and Christmas too.)

Today I took advantage of the beautiful weather and finished planting my fall garden. It doesn’t look like much but it’s my biggest planting to date. I’m pretty proud of how far I’ve come since my first attempt in March 2020. With any luck I’ll have mustard greens, beets, carrots, cabbage, green onions, peas, and green beans to fill our bellies.

Green beans and cabbage
Beets, carrots, green onions, and peas
Mustard greens for more mustard green soup!

This September I had the added blessing of spending some quality time with my brother. The kids call him Uncle Poo and he’s quite proud of the title. We got two whole days together. Something we haven’t had since he left for the military almost five years ago. It was something that I definitely needed. We had brunch, went antique shopping, had ice cream, toured the local Naval ship, and visited both sets of our parents together. We even got to go see Eric Clapton in concert. As an adult with my own family it’s easy to forget how great it is to be around people who’ve known me forever. People who know me as more than post baby me.


My peace is slowly being intruded on by the kids. I can’t say I really mind though. This short break has been enough to recharge my batteries and give me the energy I need to finish my Sunday chores. Time to feed everyone lunch then start on the mountain of laundry. A Mom’s work never ends right? Maybe if I’m lucky I can find time to make some cookies. Fingers crossed.

P.S. Geaux Tigers!

Who Loved You Into Being?

The other night The Hubs and I decided to watch “A Beautiful Day in The Neighborhood,” the Mr. Roger’s movie with Tom Hanks. It made me cry on three separate occasions because I’m a sap and it’s just a damn good story. What stopped me in my tracks though was one line. As Lloyd Vogel is struggling with his demons, Mr. Rogers asks him to sit still for one minute and, “Think of all the people who loved you into being.” What a powerful image! “All the people who loved you into being.” My mind immediately went to my parents but more images followed.

I thought of my Husband, who grows by My side every single day. I thought of my brother, who I carry with me wherever I go. We’ve had eachother’s backs since he took his first breath and talk almost every day at least once. I thought of my extended family. My Meme who I adore and hope to be like. My Pawpaw who’s voice I still hear in my head and in my own words. Of my Pop who I only got to know briefly before The Lord called him home but who still managed to teach me so much. I thought of my in-laws who in their own unique ways show love and support for me and my family. My children love this new “Mom” part of me into being every single day.

I thought of The Ya-Ya’s who literally helped raise me and supported my Mom and I as we grew together. I thought of my lifelong best friend, Melissa, who continues to nurture my crazy spirit with love and let’s me do the same for her. I thought of my friend Hillary who shares her crayons with me and always manages to find time to send me love and laughter. I thought of my dear friends from middle and high school who embraced my “weirdness” and encouraged me to be myself. There are many friends who have let me grow through their love and then drifted away on the currents of life. Despite years of separation they remain an essential part of my growth story. Their love, albeit only for a season, helped me to become who I am.

But what of those who’s lack of love helped us to grow? The bully who harassed me daily in 4th grade, the heartbreakers of my teenage years, and the adults who snubbed me all helped me to grow as well. They may not have loved me into being but their ugliness gave me room to learn how to love myself.

And who am I helping to love into being? There lies the burden of being human and yet that burden is also a beautiful opportunity so unique to our humanity. We have the power to help others grow with our love. Even people we don’t know. A small act of kindness in the grocery store. A smile at the person stuck next to you in traffic. Shared songs at a red light. Little acts done with love and kindness that may not affect us much but may mean the world to someone else.

Let these be our meditations today: Who are we helping to bring into being with our love? and Who loved us into being?

Have an awesome day everyone! I love you!

Working Life

Amidst the whirlwind of my crazy family, house repairs, and awesome job I’ve finally snuck in a minute to write. It’s 10:30p right now and the kids are asleep (in my bed of course), The Hubs is working late, and the dogs are fed and being lazy. I’ve hopped in the tub to wash the funk off and enjoy a bath bomb. While I’ve learned that self care is much more than hot water and bath bombs, I’m still 100% on board with being able to take an uninterrupted bath that smells nice and has glitter in it. My tub and I are both going to come out of this looking like cheap strippers but at least we’ll smell nice and I’ll have soft sparkly skin.

Realistically, taking a quick shower, putting on an ugly cotton nightgown, and going to bed was probably the smartest choice but my mind is too awake for that at the moment. I had the best day today. One of those crazy days where everything seems to go right and even the annoying things work out in the end. I saw the power of The Universe at work so many times today as people connected in an effort to make a positive difference in the lives of others. I won’t bore you with details but suffice it to say that I said many prayers of thanksgiving in my head throughout the day. It feels cheesy to say things like “seeing God’s work in action.” I’ve never been one to say things like that, even if I noted them in my head. Yet here I am, bubbling over with excitement for the opportunities I have to help others make a difference.

It’s truly amazing how my life has changed in the past three months because of the people I get to come into contact with on a daily basis and the work that I get to do. For the first time I’m truly appreciating how important it it’s to find work that fills my cup and pays the bills. In a 24 hour day I spend 8-9 hours working. That’s 1/3 of the available hours in a day. When you factor in a need for sleep you see just how much of the available time is devoted to work.

I’ve always said that I’m a better Mom because I work. I admire parents who have the fortitude and patience to stay home with their children. They are clearly made of a stronger material than I am. I was called to be a Mother and I love my children fiercely, but I quickly discovered during the early days of quarantine that I have to have adult interaction to make it through the day. I feel like my Mom duties never end and my work allows me to have completed projects and feelings of accomplishment almost every day. Motherhood doesn’t do that for me. I’m 100% okay with that. All this to say that I’ve learned that I’m the best Mom I can be when I’m working a job that feeds my soul.

When I was unhappy at my previous jobs, it bled over into my life at home. I was always upset with myself for not being able to shake it but when you think about spending 1/3 of your day unhappy it makes sense why it’s so hard to break the spell when you get home. That’s magnified when you have toddler twins who begin demanding your attention and what little energy you have left as soon as you pick them up from daycare. At my worst point I realized I was so grouchy that I was yelling at everyone in the house over everything. Even stupid things that didn’t matter. Coming home in a better mood has helped me to slow down and enjoy my family. The Twins are starting to do things like help with dinner. The big kids are taking on more chores. The Hubs and I laugh together more. Before, I was so grouchy and tense that I didn’t take the time that I needed or have the patience required to make these things happen. I’m not saying I haven’t had bad days, but they’re fewer now.

I’m also not as wiped out on the weekends so I’ve been able to do more around the house and have more quality time with my family. The Twins and I have done brunch, The Boy and I binge watched a new show on Netflix (do yourself a favor and watch Sweet Tooth, it’s the bomb), and Crazy Eyes and I have had some great conversations. I’ve even been able to watch movies with The Hubs after the kids go to bed without falling asleep…okay that’s a partial truth. I still fall asleep but it’s about half way through and not ten minutes in. (It’s become a Pavlovian Response to watching movies in our comfy chair, don’t judge me.)

While I may not be as tired on the weekends, I’ve exhausted all of my remaining energy tonight. Time to get my shiny hiney to bed. Tomorrow it’s off to a seminar to learn more sales and marketing techniques. Sounds boring to most but I’m excited. Hopefully by then all this glitter will have fallen off so no one gets the wrong idea. Haha! Here’s wishing you all a lifetime of job satisfaction and an abundance of sparkles!

The Frustration Continues

We had a rough night last night. After weeks of back and forth with insurance and adjusters, we were just informed that we don’t have flood insurance like we thought. Clearly, it’s on us for not having kept up with our policy information, I just wish that one of the four people that we’d talked to with the insurance company before last night had corrected us when we said that we had flood insurance.

So our consolation of “we have flood insurance so at least this means we can replace our crappy floors” is out the window. To add insult to injury, the damage to our roof (which didn’t even cause any of the water damage) has a deductible of $4,500. Our savings is wiped out completely and we still won’t have floors. We’re praying that the walls are okay but haven’t been able to get a contractor out here yet to check.

I did a lot of ugly crying last night. I’m emotionally exhausted and overwhelmed. I feel broken. I’m struggling with patience and frustration and so is The Hubs. We’ve been trying to see the silver linings but I’m running out of steam. It’s hard not to sit in my head and make a list of all the things in our house that are broken that we can’t afford to fix. The oven, the floors, the drainage in the back yard, etc.

There’s no slowing down or end in sight right now. It feels like We’re in the middle of the storm cloud. Maybe it’s true, the darkest hour is just before the dawn. I sure hope dawn comes soon. I’m a naturally optimistic person but this is a true test for me. I’m running out of positives. It’s starting to feel like lipstick on a pig when I try to find the bright side.

The other day a friend posted a thought that resonated with me. “Maybe God gave us the mountain to show others that it could be moved.” Part of me finds peace in this idea that maybe one day our journey will help others. The other part of me wishes that the mountain would just go the hell away and people find another example.

Pray for us my Dears or send positive vibes out into The Universe, whatever it is that you do. Our world isn’t ending, we aren’t homeless, and so many people have it so much worse, but we’re struggling. I’m struggling.

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