This night.

I am tired.
Like, crawl up in a fetal position, and pull the blanket so high around my shoulders and bury my face so far in my pillow, that hopefully no one will ever find me, tired. I possibly am resembling funeral exhaustion. But, it is different. I actually can't crawl up in the fetal position and give up, or give in.
I want to.
I am only on day three, and I am failing.
I understand how mothers quit. They are tired. They are tired of the fight. They are tired of the fake. They are tired.
I actually don't know how to ask for help.
"hi, help me while I check out. Direct all questions, calls, concerns and criticism to somewhere else, forever."

Ulcers.

I can't say that I have heard anything about ulcers since before 2000. Did they decide they don't actually exist? or is it that they are so common place anymore, that it's just a part of the actual make up of our bodies. You know, like, blood, bones, ulcers.  ?
I think I have them. My stomach is sick. and sad. and hurts. I'm pretty sure it's ulcers. My tears are too close to the surface to actually talk about the events of today, March 23. But, let me just give a quick overview of what could be contributing to my ulcers.
Carson.
-Failing English. No, I should correct that and state, Failed English. I am making him take it              online.
-Weird obsessions
-Lying to me about kissing his girlfriend.
-Getting texts from his friends saying they are worried about him, that he told them 'that nobody would care if he died.'
Skye.
-Kissing a boy in my house during lunch.
Daisy.
-4th grade girls drama, and the mothers that call me.
Creeden.
-His bad days that cause melt downs.
Canyon.
-Naughty. Defiant. Aggressive.
Church.
-Nursury, stressful, not rewarding, crying kids, runaway parents, getting so so little from church except a migraine.
-Visiting Teaching
-People judging my daughters short skirt.
-My older two do not love it. Hate it actually.
My House.
- I have to get it ready for someone else to live in.
My dogs.
-I have to get rid of them, and nobody wants them.
Cars.
Clients.
and, well, now I get to navigate this all on my own.
Ya, I have ulcers.

Focusing on the Now.

Last October Cody and I  flew to Massachusetts. Drove to Maine, then Connecticut, peeked at Rhode Island, and then back to Boston. Adventurous. Amazing. Fantastic. (I might love that word)
It was at that same time we found out that he had gotten hired for his new position at work.  Because of this, he would need some additional training,  6 months training in Virginia actually. He will be at Newport News Shipyard for a time, then Norfolk Naval. Adventure. Amazing. Fantastic!
In October I didn't really ever think the end of March would come. Seven months seemed like an eternity.

It's here.

We have gotten an apartment, secured a lease, picked the furniture, arranged the power. We have packed the boxes, and filled the suitcases. On Friday, I drive him to the airport, he boards a plane, and flys 2,362 miles away. He then picks up his rental, drives to his new apartment, and sleeps, without me, for 63 days.
In 68 days we will join him. That middle 65? That's where I can't let my mind go.
We have:
 Carsons basketball; practices and games. Baseball; practices, games, and tournaments. Speedcamp; two nights a week in Rigby, young mens,  and he is working everyday after school at the greenhouse.
Skyes daily practice, games, tournaments, young womens, and working at the greenhouse when possible.
Daisy dance; class two nights a week, technique one night a week, and competitions, every other weekend from here to ST GEORGE!
Creedens baseball; practice and games.
Every weekend between now and Memorial day, I will drive an average of 600 miles to competitions or tournaments. Actually that started 3 weeks ago with Boise, Poky, Twin Falls.
Should the time fly in that 63 days? Yes. Will I be going a million miles an hour? Yes.
Adventureous. Amazing. Fantastic. ?
I will do my best.
Oh, and my job. Yes, I will still be working, full time.

Then, at the end of those 63 days, the remaining 6 of our tribe will crawl in the car and drive the 2,362 miles to be reunited. Utah. Colorado. Kansas, Kentucky, West Virginia, Virginia.
Days at a time? Miles at a time? Hours? Minutes. If nothing else, by the end of this summer, I think I may claim the status of being an actual grown up.

But it will be the nights. The crawling into a cold bed, with no option of warm legs to put my feet on. No back to secure my anxious belly against. No arm around me to hold me tight.

So here I am. I will focus everyday on only the Now. That 63 days will have too many Nows that  will require my every attention.
Deep breath.
Adventure. Amazing. Fantastic!

Hiccup

Because I can't really find the right title for this post, I named it Hiccup, because it was an involuntary  chaos created in my brain that has just kept repeating.
It was Skye's birthday yesterday. We were so busy. No time for self indulgent awareness. I was at the grocery store, and the clerk was talking to Canyon, he was entertaining back. She then turned to me and said, "Is he your grandson?'
Hiccup.
"No. I guess I just started late."
Hiccup.
How in the whole amount of cosmic universe did this one clerk hit me with the line that plagues my insecurities?
I know that I am aging. I am telling Heavenly Father that every day, and the things He is asking me to do are indeed so hard because of this exact Hiccup.
Tell me lady. Is it the wrinkles by my eyes? or on my forehead, because, yes, I have them. In excess.
Is it the sun spots? I know. I even have them on my neck.
And actually, speaking of my neck, I have a little bit of saggy skin there. I am trying a variety of things, for the saggy, the sun spots, and the wrinkles. But yes, they are still there.
Hiccup.
we live in a really weird world.
Tell me lady. Because although it will be a really beautiful thing to be a grandmother-  right now, I am a mother, only. And a very insecure one that really doesn't know how to pull off the things that Heavenly Father is asking. Tell me, what is it in my appearance that has you question my age. I really will work on it.
Hiccup.

42 on 24

I'm a numbers nerd.
I actually had decided that I was going to be turning 36 this year. Good number. Not too old. But, the morning of my birthday I realized that was kind of a cool number play. So, for a minute, I embraced it.
Musings. I've been musing over a few things. It's because I went running. That always sparks the part of my brain that thinks deeper, to come to life. It was 12'- but with wind chill, felt like 1'. I was totally aware of this before going out, and actually totally deliberately went out anyway. I hate cold. But, it was my birthday. I wanted to do all the things I love (running- not cold). Do you know that I am still wearing the running shoes that I bought with the money I won from my placing 2nd in my marathon. yes. That was 2013. I know. I know that is not healthy. Not good. Guess what, oh well.
Pandora was music selection choice of the day. First song, perfect. I did it all,  OneDirection. Funny huh? What's so funny is that I pay so little attention to trendy music that I had no Idea about this song. It is awsome!I think that it hit me so hard because it was my birthday, and it's my baby's birthday (today)- and I feel I have lived thoroughly, fully, deeply, and hope the same for her. We listened to it a million times more throughout the day.
Because the wind was blowing, my eyes naturally drifted downward, and I went into that musing part of my brain. I went through and did a self inventory.
Legs. Warm. Strong. Not even bothered. I am Waynes daughter. My legs are slightly less than the size of a elephants. But the are strong.
Arms. Warm. But, a little high. Amazing how I could write you a whole novel on what the position of my arms mean. Saturday. They were high. That's a explanation for another day.
Lungs. Not strong. The wind was burning them, and I was sucking way too hard.
And then my feet. I love my feet. Nope, definitely not because of their looks. They are steady. They are constant. They are solid. They have carried me to the coolest, most amazing destinations. Yes, they are my favorite part of me.
As my eyes stayed there watching my feet I wondered how many miles these shoes have seen. Even better how many minutes. For over a year, I was inside on machines. Different than a road. But still carrying me. Minutes.
Sometimes I've been only able to focus on minutes. Maybe even only one. Yes, one minute at a time. 2012. 2013. and definitely minutes of 2014. yes, that's talking about my minute on the stair stepper. My minute, on the treadmill, or lifting weights. My minute in survival. My minute, one at a time in control, being strong. But they add up. I made it through. There are 524,160 minutes in a year. If nothing else, that is pretty amazing.
I AM a numbers nerd.
Thank you little red tin therapist. That's where I will end today.

cording.

Like an umbilical cord. It connects us.
Or, it attaches us to someone. In my mind, I want to say it's a two way, but that is where I am mistaken.
There are healthy cords and unhealthy, but most can be both.
Babies and Mothers, in utero and out.  This was my first reason I believe in it. The connection I have with my babies. As they are born and grow, it changes, sometimes thicker and stronger, sometimes, not.
My Spouse. We feed each other, and drain each other.
As someone in mental health, people attach their cords to me. I do not attach back to them, but then they suck me dry.
We can 'cord' with someone we don't even know. i.e. the lady who offered me a sample of night cream for my face that I walked away from, but still can't get out of my brain.
But, we also have the power to cut these cords, or burn them, or pull them out from the core- maybe that's a little hostile.
The frustration with this idea is that cords are not a guaranteed two way highway. A lot can be given, Or a lot can be received, but it doesn't have to be both ways.
I guess that's the basis.

Board of Directors

A long time ago, in a beautiful far off place called Sun Valley, I attended a mental health conference.
There was a presenter, Ruby Payne, who still, 14 years later, echoes thoughts in my head. She introduced to me the idea of a Board of Directors, for ourselves. Ruby reviewed what the definition of a Board of Directors consists of. And then, asked us if we have that in our brain. Do we have a Board of Directors in our Brains?
I do.
Why? I don't know. and I write that with a big sigh and a level of 'seriously, why do i have to have other people occupy space in my brain' kind of weight that pushes my shoulders down.
Maybe there are healthy people there.
My parents. Separately. They aren't a voice together, because I use their voices for different aspects. Yes, they are healthy. And, they are consistent. They are always available.
My Mission President, and his wife. The Rowes. They are distant, but also healthy.
My boss. He's consistent for the most part. As much as he can be.
And maybe a splash, like, a splash from the lemonade glass, of friends. That means like 3. Distant, busy, not super invested. However, if i had the guts enough to text and say, I'm not in a good spot, they would text back.
But then there are those that for stupidly stupid reasons they still sit there, in their stupid black robes, (I guess I picture them as a grand jury) and refuse to leave, but refuse to acknowledge that they were given the power to be there. Again, I am reminded that I need to write out my thoughts on Cording.