How to be found

Lost & Found

How I got through some seriously tough shit without ever seeing a therapist

For someone so open, vocal and outspoken, this might come as a shock-- BUT I have this really bad habit of keeping certain aspects of my life to myself. And not in a healthy, privacy kind of way. In like, a "I don't want to hear what other people think because I know I'm wrong" kind of way. Or if I really need help I won't ask for it. If things get too hard, I tend to internalize it until I just can't take it anymore and then it all comes out in some really insane way, like throwing my keys at my ex-boyfriend while he was on duty as a police officer.

I'd like to say that was years ago, and wow I've learned so much since then, but that isn't all true. It happened last spring and it's a night I replay in my head frequently. Not only did I absolutely lose my shit, but I did it in front of a lot of people. Coworkers, strangers, people who I had been interacting with on a regular basis for a year and a half. Do you ever want to disappear?

Rock bottom? Maybe.

While it wasn't years ago, I can say that I HAVE learned a lot since then.

I had to re-find myself. Again. I get lost every now and then.


LOST:
About 10 years ago, something happened to me that changed my life. Up until this point in my life, I had never thought that "it would happen to me". I had that teenage invincible cloak on and I definitely thought I could do whatever I wanted and things would still be okay. I had also never kept a secret from anyone. Two things happened: I learned how to keep a secret, and I realized that it DID just happen to me.

FOUND: Ok, so I cried and I moved on. (This isn't really called being found... this is called stumbling through life.)

LOST: 2 years later, that whole "it won't ever happen to me" happened again. I'm sitting in my car at 7 AM with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a broken cheekbone. The right side of my face had swollen so much my face was borderline unrecognizable. I was as shell shocked as if this had been the first time he had ever hit me. I found a pair of sunglasses in the glovebox, put my hood on and went inside. I cleaned the blood off, and then I did the craziest thing I've ever done. I called into work and then I went to bed. I stayed in that relationship and I kept that secret too.

FOUND: Met the loves of my life. Two tiny humans made their way into my heart and tore down all my walls. It's funny because people always think that when you become strong, you become hard. But I found my strength in them, and my heart got a little softer.

LOST: Things start getting tough in my marriage. I also had a lot of extra baby weight and it was making me hate myself. A lot of self-loathing. I joined a gym and I started working out. That helped with the weight and got me out of the house, but it didn't change me.

FOUND: What really changed me was when I started running. I'm a terrible runner. I run slow and if I have to run over 5 miles it turns into a stop and go situation. It's hard to believe now, but there was a time that I was actually WORSE than I am now. The first time I went out for a run, all I could think was surely I've gone half a mile by now, wtf I can't breathe. Nike plus said .25 miles. I went home.

I'm not entirely sure why, but I kept doing it. There was something about the idea that if I just kept putting one foot in front of the other I could keep going. I started running away from my house as far as I could in order to force myself to run the distance instead of face the shame of having to walk back. It wasn't just the physical challenge, it was the music, the alone time... it was all of it. It felt good. I felt good. It felt like the therapy I couldn't afford. So I just kept on going. I laced up whenever I could and I got lost in it. Or rather, I got found in it...

LOST: Fast forward a couple years and my life is completely falling apart for the 17th time in my life. The stress of being a single mom has kicked in, working 2-3 jobs and I still can't afford all my bills, my on and off again "relationship" is hitting an all time low and causing a lot of depression and anxiety, and my jeans don't fit.

FOUND: And then my best friend returns from her travels abroad/out of state move. You never realize how much you miss/love someone until you haven't seen them in months and you finally see each other again and realize you're still 14 years old-- crying over boys, laughing at cat memes, taking double chin selfies, but mostly understanding each other in silence. Dare I say, my soulmate. We have surely had our ups and downs, even months of fights where we swore we'd never be friends ever again. I think through the years, we have learned a couple things but mostly that life is too short to fight over boys and other trivial shit. So we were both a little broken, but still insanely weird and nobody else gets us. Some things had changed but the best things hadn't. We both needed some extra exercise and less booze and thought some fresh air would do us some good. We set out for our first hike together to see what the hype was all about and I swear, it was one of those days I'll never forget. I can't remember what we talked about. All I remember is sitting on top of a mountain with this person who just fucking got it. You know when you say, "You know what I mean?" and the other person says "Yeah, man" and you know that they do. That's how I felt. I finally felt like none of the shit below me mattered. Who cares?

We didn't. We drank our coffee and sat on top of the world and gave zero fucks to anyone else that day. We were just happy in the company of each other, free from judgement and free from the trivial things that won't matter in a year.

(Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter- Dr. Seuss )

How to get found:

Accept that we are only human. We don't always make the best decisions or know the right thing to do. Sometimes we do things because they feel right, and then it doesn't work out. You can have every good intention in the world, and still somehow end up off the trail because of outside forces. Maybe the trail was closed, or unexpected winds came. Maybe you just didn't use your map because you're a rebel like that. Or the road less traveled looked really appeasing and now you don't know where the fuck you are. Sometimes we get lost and we have to go in search of finding ourselves again, and through the years I've learned that it's totally okay... as long as you keep coming back. It's taken me years to re-find myself, and I've had a hell of a good time doing it. I mean, I jumped out of a plane this year. I ran a lot and I wandered through the woods a lot. I made a couple giant mistakes, I made an ass out of myself, I lost a couple friends along the way, and I gained a few. I accomplished a lot, and I was humbled to the floor. I just lived. And you know what, I'll probably get lost again and I'll have to start all over again. And it'll be another chapter in my adventurous story.

I've learned that sometimes you get a little lost and you can use your own sense of direction to get you back. You'll be back by dinner and nobody will have noticed. Sometimes though, we travel a little farther off the trail and we might miss dinner and those we eat with might be concerned. And other times we'll get really lost and we won't be able to find our way back on our own. We'll need a search and rescue team.

But here's the thing: you have to want to be found. People that want to be lost don't send smoke signals for rescue teams.

So go for a hike. Get a little lost. But send the smoke signals. Call your best friend, or your mom. If you don't ask for help, you won't ever get it.

Always be prepared. There's a reason hikers and climbers bring bags-- emergency kits, flares, extra jackets, water, food, etc.  Because it can happen to you.

When you get to the top, the view is so worth the struggle. I've never met a person that huffed and puffed up a mountain only to say, "Well this sucks".

And last but not least, bring a beer or something. Cake. Bring cake. Celebrate your victories. Afterall, you did just make it to the top of a mountain and the view is so good.

Here's the best part: I finally got myself a therapist. Maybe this time, I won't get so lost.

I can't ever say it enough-- but in the spirit of being thankful this month... I am beyond thankful for my search and rescue team. Thanks for finding me and bringing me back.

Sappy Kindergarten Mom Post

Gosh, I can't believe this day that I've looked forward to has finally come!

Yeah, you read that right. I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS FOR FOREVER. 

My child woke up and immediately asked if he was taller. We measured him and all hell broke loose. He was FREAKING out because he wasn't tall enough to start Kindergarten. Oh boy, off to a great start.

I insisted that he was old enough, and tall enough and that he HAD to start Kindergarten.

I've never been a helicopter Mom. In fact, I apologize to my Mom-Friends that ARE helicopter Moms but seriously, sit down, you're irritating me. Don't be offended. My parenting style makes some people irritated with me too, so I understand. I'm mostly non-judgemental, I actually feel bad for you. I know it's just natural for you to worry and maybe you genuinely believe that hovering over your children will benefit them. I prefer the hands off approach and I genuinely believe in my approach as well. I'm a relaxed parent and some people think this means I don't care. I have an inappropriate sense of humor and I have found it physically impossible to help my kids do something they surely can figure out on their own. But don't be mistaken, I definitely care. I have high expectations of my kids: I require please and thank you's and I expect them to pick up after themselves and tell me they love me. I want them to be self-sufficient human beings. I also want to carry on with my independent life. I love my children fiercely but I also really love naps.

Kindergarten = Mommy naptime

Seriously, in my wildest dreams, I have envisioned a day where I would be able to take a nap and wake up to find my home exactly the way I left it when I fell asleep. My kids have been known to "take naps" in their room that lead to complete and total chaos. Apparently it's necessary to take every single toy out and throw it on the floor in order to fall asleep.

I've also dreamt of going to the grocery store in peace. One kid = peace. Two kids = war. Its far easier to bribe one child than it is to convince both children of the same bribery.

To say I was far more disappointed with the first day of Kindergarten would be an understatement. Ryan was so bored with me that he never left my side. "Will you play with me?" "I'm hungry" "I'm still hungry" "I want a sandwich with nothing on it" "Will you build my Batman legos for me?". He kept retrieving snacks from the cupboard for Tristan, you know... for when he gets home from Kindergarten. Because he will clearly need 7 packs of fruit snacks, a banana and 2 applesauces. I guess they don't feed them when they go to school jail. I tried to take a nap but you know how that works. Everyone and their mom finally decides to text and call me the minute my head hits the pillow. When my body is vertical and I'm fully caffeinated...nobody ever calls me!

The most disappointing thing happened when I dropped Tristan off. HE DIDN'T EVEN SAY BYE TO ME! I was distracted by this adorable little girl in a Maxi skirt and blazer who REALLY didn't want to go to Kindergarten. She hadn't even set foot on that magic circle rug but she HATED Kindergarten. I helped Tristan hang up his backpack in his locker, put his lunch box away and was standing there watching the scene play out when I realized my kid disappeared. I peeked my head inside the classroom to find him sitting on the rug fist pounding a little boy he just met. To disturb... or not to disturb. That was the question. AHH. I thought I could handle this! I kind of expected him to be shy and want to hug me and you know, maybe not want me to leave. He IS my sensitive one after all. But he didn't even care. I cried a little inside, but held it together.



I yelled to him and said, "Hey bud. I'm gonna leave, ok?" and he said "Bye Mom!"

As I walked back to my apartment (Hey, we live across the street, this is so cool!)... I really felt like man, I should put this kid in his place. I felt like the whole I BIRTHED YOU WITH NO DRUGS card could really come in handy right now.

When I picked him up, I asked him how his day was. "Awesome, of course." I asked what he did, what he learned, if he remembered his teachers name, if he made any new friends. I was HOVERING. I HAD TO. He told me "I have a lot of work to do, Ok Mom." I said, "Ok, yeah. Well I can help you if you need. What kind of work do you have to do?" and he told me "Just a lot of stuff but I don't need to tell you about it ok?" WOAH. Why so many secrets little child? So I had to set him straight. We worked it out. I explained that I'm the mother and that my job is to help him and I need and want to know what's going on at school and like the good child that he is (can't take credit for this, he was literally just born this way) said, "Ok Mom, you can help me".

So it's official. My little tiny human just entered the big scary world. It wasn't until the moment it was happening that I really didn't want it to happen. The realization that the baby phase is leaving my life just hit me. Nobody needs my help anymore? Are you sure you don't want me to come with? I'll just sit quietly, I won't bother you. I can't just take you wherever I want, whenever I want? My little buddy who has HAD to come with me everywhere is going to start his own independent life. My heart was breaking a little bit at the thought of not knowing all the details of his day, but I couldn't help it. I'm so excited for him. This is where it all begins. The fun. I had to be a little excited for him, remembering my own mischief I got into at the ripe elementary status. Some of my best memories came from elementary school. Some of my best friends came from Elementary school.

 I mean, at least I didn't cry.

I'M WRITING A BOOK!

So, as some of you know...

I've been writing a book.

I know right? Like, for real? Is she serious? Who does she think she is?

I think I'm Ashley Thompson and I have a GREAT story.
Some people are probably going to end up hating me WHEN the book comes out (not if), but that's okay. I just felt like this is it. This is my story. I've been waiting my whole life for my story.

I've wanted to write a book my entire life. For as long as I can remember. Some kids say, I'm going to be an astronaut! My 5 year old wants to be a racecar driver and my 4 year old wants to be a Police Officer some days and a Firefighter on others, but mostly he wants to be Batman. But I, I wanted to be an author. Not a writer. I've been that for as long as I've been left handed. But an author. I wanted to write a book.

I never knew what I was going to write about. I mean, there are SO MANY THINGS I can talk about. I'm sure all of my Facebook friends can agree. They probably scroll through their feed and think, GOOD GOD LADY GIVE IT A REST. But that's what happens when you live with Toddlers and all your friends are getting married.

Even after I decided that I was going to write a book, I tried to narrow it down. Literally, my life should have been a book. I do a lot of really weird things and people tell me on a regular basis that I should write a book. I don't see things in black and white, and therefore I end up losing in the game "I have never" consistently. But I couldn't write about most things in my life because well, I have parents. And they're still alive.

But I have been given a gift. It's a gift of being able to talk a lot. Some of you might not think it's a gift. But I've come to accept that I'm just not for everyone. I once had a guy tell me I post too much on Facebook and that's why he didn't want to date me. HA. What I really wanted to tell him was that if he thinks I post a lot, you should just meet me in person. I can dominate a conversation like nobody's business. It's why my best friend and I have been friends for so long; because she's quiet and shy and I just talk talk talk and pry things out of her. She doesn't even have to ask me what's going on in my life because I volunteer that in the first 20 minutes. I realized way too late in life that these are the type of people I should stick with-- the people that just like me, that accept me and have the balls to tell me to shut up so they can talk ( I have friends like that too, I LOVE YOU GUYS).

My favorite boyfriend (yes, I have favorites) told me once a couple years after we broke up. "It was so awesome dating you. I'd just sit there and nod and smile and play my video games and you'd just go on for hours and you never ran out of things to talk about". That's why he's my favorite. God damnit, the ones that get away. (I was an asshole)

So anyway, it finally hit me. THIS IS IT. This is what I am supposed to write about.

This book is gonna be good. And not like how my blog is good. I don't even proofread this shit. I just type away, close my eyes, and click publish. But I've got a story to tell, and it's important and I hope it changes a few lives.

So yeah, that's it. That was the only reason I called you all here to read my blog; to tell you that.

All my friends are getting married.

All my friends are getting married and I'm just stocking up on self-help books, dating Mr. Right Now and getting so drunk I can't find my phone. Oh and a divorce. I'm getting a divorce!

... I feel like the plague.

My divorce was the best thing that happened to me (besides my kids) and my marriage was the second, (besides my kids). So, in order that makes the minions to be the best thing, the divorce second and the marriage 3rd. I have no bitterness or sadness about that, and it doesn't make me any less happy for my friends that are getting married. None of their engagements weren't all THAT surprising...You know how people say you just know. So do us friends. It has all felt very natural, like the next thing to happen for them. I could not imagine them with anyone else and I am beyond thrilled for them. Do I still worry about them? Yes. Maybe it's the motherly nature I've developed, or maybe its my experience. But either way, I am worried.

I married the right guy and I still got divorced.

It's been a tradition amongst me and my friends for a long time for me to be the one that dives in head first only to realize it's a pond, not a lake and I come up with a bloody head and a concussion. They learn from my mistakes. So for tradition sake, and because I love these people more than words could ever express... as well, as kinda like standing on a soap box every now and then... here's some marriage advice from a soon-to-be divorce'...

To my knowledge,  my divorce had nothing to do with my lack of baking skills...although one can never be too sure. 

It is no secret that I openly tell people that I love my husband. Err...soon to be ex-husband. You know, the one that I am divorcing, have lived a separate life from for over 2 years now, and the same one that I refuse to work things out with. The way I describe it now is "unconditional love". Nobody pisses me off more and there's not any other soul I would go to the end of the world for. But if you ask me to live in the same house again, I'll politely say I have other plans. (I'm also in love with a different man some days, so don't get this all twisted.)

Aw, aren't we cute! So, like... Why did we get divorced?

Well, that's none of your business. But the real reason we got divorced is this:

• While we had a great relationship, we were the best of friends and I believe he may just have been "the one"... we didn't have the tools we needed to learn how to function when we didn't agree. And we didn't agree on a lot of things.
• While we were busy baby-making, producing those babies, and tending to their every need, we forgot about taking care of each other.
• The little things became the big things.

Of course, I didn't know any of this WHILE I was married.

So first, let me preface this: Marriage a balancing act, so don't be surprised when some of this contradicts the other And if you've heard it a million times, I'm sorry for that too but it just means I'm as wise now as the rest of the world tried to make me 5 years, so read this and take it to heart because I'm not getting paid for this.

& FINALLY:

1. Go to bed mad sometimes if you must. If it's 4am and you have to work at 6, call it a night and vow to come back to it. Don't sweep it under the rug, but a fresh head might help. THE COUCH IS OFF LIMITS. You wanna go to bed mad, that's your choice but you get to share the bed with that infuriating human being because you actually love them and they just really make you mad sometimes. Also, you might wake up to find that the other person is cuddling you in their sleep :)

2. The little things become the big things, both good and bad. Don't forget all the little things that made your heart race. Don't ALWAYS overlook the little annoyances. If it's a big deal to your spouse, but it's not to you...take that to heart, and make an effort.

3. PICK YOUR BATTLES. Express your feelings, but realize that sometimes it's best to let it go. Like, say if he always puts his boxers just outside of the hamper, instead of in it. Let that one go and focus on getting to places on time.

3. Date night: you HAVE to do it. Even if you're tired and you don't want to get dressed. Redbox & your couch do not qualify as date night. Neither does the restaurant you take your (future) kids to.

4. Learn to say you're sorry and what that word means. Sorry means you won't do it again (this is what I tell my 3 &5 year olds, but it's the truth. Sorry means nothing if you keep doing it and use the word only for forgiveness).

5. The marriage comes before the kids. Can.Not.Stress.This.Enough.

6. Don't let sweatpants get the best of you. Yeah, I'm talking to you.

7. Learn how to argue. Without yelling. without name calling. Read all the books, see all the therapists. Do whatever you can to learn how to have a healthy argument. This is so important. There will be stressful times. You will argue.

8. Develop interests together. Don't get boring. Getting comfortable is awesome! It's the best part of marriage, but getting lazy and boring is not good for anyone. This also doesn't include family activities when the kids come. This is strictly for the two of you to do just the two of you, or with another couple occasionally if you choose.

9. Have your own interests. This doesn't mean liking your own show. This means find something that makes you happy. That you can go and do when you need some space.

10. This one is tricky so here's the best advice I can offer on this subject: Choose wisely who AND WHAT you vent to/about. It's not healthy to bottle everything in but venting to your Mom or all of your friends about EVERYTHING isn't good either. Venting to coworkers is a no go, and that random new friend that is attractive is a no go as well. You cant vent to me and I'll nod and smile and pretend to listen and I'm really good at not taking sides. You'll get it out of your system, I'll get free wine. It's a win win. That's what I'm here for.

11. If you never stop doing what you did to win this person over, you'll never lose them.

12. Love is like your favorite comfy sweatshirt. You have to take really good care of it to make it last so long. (you also can't get fat. Don't do that anyway, unless there's a baby in you.)

13. Don't forget about your friends. Ok, this one had a slightly ulterior motive. But don't forget about me!!!

And last but not least....

Sometimes... the worse, comes before the better.

Hindsight is 20/20 and if I had known what I know now, I would have done things differently. I would have listened to the advice that was given, I would have backed down a few times, and I would have tried a little harder. But I didn't and now I'm here and maybe this is why... so that I can help my friends determine what is and isn't worth it, and share my insight. I'm not nearly as expensive as a professional counselor, I only want your company and free wine.

xoxo,
Best wishes, congrats, good luck, break a leg, etc etc to all of my soon to be wed friends!!

Self Help: Get the F*ck Over It

I spend a lot of time thinking about my "About Me" section on various dating sites that I don't really use for any reason other than its nice to get messages from guys that think I'm attractive. Who cares if they haven't seen the inside of a gym, or a shower in years. Oh hey 48 year old man with a beer belly 3 times the size of my ass... I'm super glad you like my hammock. I mean it's great that you would like to get to know me and have dropped your unique pick up line that you created strictly for this site. Really, it is. I'm flattered and I'm also never going to respond.

Anyway, I frequently contemplate what to write. Is it too crazy to just flat out write "I'M A F*CKING PSCYHO" or should I be somewhat more nonchalant about it "All good things are wild & free"-- which is code for I'm a crazy ass b*tch. I've noticed, the less you write...the more messages you get. They all say the same thing "You're so mysterious." "I'm so curious about you" blah blah blah. So I like to lay it all out there, like really let them know what they're getting into. Less messages to sift through. 

                                   

"Hi, my name is Ashley. If we go on a date and you treat me like crap, I will blog about it and blame my single status on the sole basis that all men are the same, therefore you will single handedly be responsible for men sucking everywhere."

Anyway.

Did you know what I'm a self-help book lover? I bet you didn't. You probably just think I have all this wisdom from my extensive life experience full of 27 years of bad judgement. Nope. Everything I learned, I learned in the self-help aisle. (also known as the wine aisle)

But seriously. Whenever I have been in the depths of emotions, despair...when I CANT EVEN.. I head to Barnes and Noble and stock up on a load of self-help books.

CLEARLY THEY'RE NOT DOING THEIR JOB.

So as I'm browsing Amazon for help on getting over my latest love affair. OH WAIT, you mean the one I wrote about 6 months ago? Yeah, that one... I realize that while I've been putting books into my cart, I've also just written the best About Me I can think of, via book titles:

"Don't worry, it gets worse"
"My boyfriend wrote a book about me"
"Psychos"
"White Girl Problems"
"I was told there'd be cake"
"Life as I Blow it"
"Bitter is the new black"
"You can't drink all day if you don't start in the morning"

If this doesn't accurately depict my life... then I don't know what does.

I scanned past all of the titles
"Rebuilding"
"Getting past your breakup"

aka how to suffocate.

I wish I could find my answers in a book like that. But I can't.

I'm looking for a book that is going to slap me in the face and tell me to "Get the F*ck over it"

So instead of drowning myself in boring advice that may actually help me, I indulge in hilarious novels that make me feel better about myself. I get to read about inappropriate things that don't have my name stamped across it, laugh my ass off at someone else's misfortune, and get my self-help by the gaining the knowledge that I'm not the only seriously f*cked up person out there, because someone had to write that and tons of people are reading it. Solidarity, my crazy friends.

But seriously, can someone write a book for me so I can reference back to it every other hour when I need to be reminded to get the f*ck over it. He's just a boy.

Please & thank you.

2 Year Celebration!

2 years!!!!!

Since my little life got flip turned upside down.

Kind crazy to think about-- It feels like yesterday and an entire lifetime ago all at the same time.

I will never stop celebrating. I will never stop feeling grateful for each and every moment I spend in this "new life". I will forever be grateful for all the stones in the road. I am building a castle. (Didn't you hear stones are expensive these days?)

They say you don't find your strength without the struggle. Well, the struggle over here has been realer than real. But it's said for a reason. It isn't until you're 11 hours deep into a shift after pulling an all nighter from doing homework, or trying to find childcare 25 minutes before you have to be at work, selling baby items for gas money that you realize... I'm going to be okay. No matter what.

I'm going to be okay because this is what I want. I chose this. The weight that was lifted, and the security and confidence that came with my choices is worth all the long days, the seriously endless pile of laundry, and the missing picket fence.

My transition from Stay-at-Home Mom and Housewife to Single Mother has been less than easy.

I survived because of endless living room dance parties to "Shake it Off", because of great friends who just asked "What do you need? How can I help". Because of Mimosa's and brunch in the same clothes as last night. I survived because of little baby feet in my face, goodnight texts, hammocks, porch parties, and great neighbors. People I just met believing in me, my PIMA family. I survived because I hit my feet to the pavement over and over, found my passion, found myself. Because of all the people that wanted to see me fail. I saw their faces in the back of my mind each and every time I wanted to give up.

So for that, I celebrate! I try to be grateful each and every day, and I try to remember. My journey won't be easy, but there is a reason behind it and that reason gives me the strength I need when I want to chuck plates at the wall.

Home is anywhere I make it.

Things will never be perfect. I will always have to explain why I can't go with them to Daddy's house. I will always have to explain why we take separate trips. And some day I'm going to have to explain why Mommy and Daddy decided to live apart.

BUT GUESS WHAT!!

My parents did it. Some of my friends parents did it.
I think we're all okay.

"A little messed up, but we're all okay"

& guess what else...

There is life. There is love. There is hot sex. There is laughter. There is peace. There is family.

....after divorce.

Marriage is glamorized. Being a hard working single mother is glamorized.

Nobody talks about, blogs about, photographs the late nights where they're crying and arguing with a spouse, crying because they know they're only going to get 4 hours of sleep, they don't reveal the loneliness that can occur in and out of marriages, the financial and emotional strain that comes with children. Who wants to post about their long DSHS call while their single, childless friends post about how some guy at the gas station was using their tax dollars to buy food, who wants to take a picture of the baby puke that just flew all over them in the middle of the night, the moments that make you question your ability to parent all at the same time, because somebody might call CPS. Nobody posts the thoughts that make them wonder if they're cut out for motherhood. Or the thoughts that make you think you should've just been a stripper....(not my thoughts, I swear.....#ihatemath)...

& that's okay. Because who wants to dwell in that?

Let's celebrate!

#HAPPYTWOYEARS!

Less House More Home

Something I've been working on since the big separation/move is grasping and accepting the idea that I do not need everything. I don't need a big fancy house or a big fancy car. I don't need to have all the things.

I have everything I need.

(this does not change me from wanting all of the things)

I'm trying to create my life from the inside out. It doesn't look like much... but it is.

You may remember my post about my very first Single Mama Apartment-- when I moved out here, I had a couple twin mattresses and nothing on my walls.

Things have changed.

I've created a home.

With our upcoming move... I couldn't help but feel nostalgic about this place I lovingly refer to as the ghetto.

My babies turned into little boys in this place; Tristan learned to ride his bike in this driveway (and we didn't get shot), Ryan learned the fine art of dragging the chair into the kitchen to get what you want, I completed my first ever educational program (for those that don't know--didn't graduate high school, college dropout), and got my first big kid job...and then we all survived my commute, (and each other) for several months. Tristan learned to pee in the potty, and dress himself. I blinked and he learned to zip his coat up and put his own shoes on. I blinked and Ryan ate the whole tub of peanut butter. He went from barely being able to say 2, to never shutting up. Mommy learned that Champagne has calories. 

I love this place. From the outside, it's nothing special. It's a crap neighborhood and a crap building, but we've done just fine here and I have cherished every moment inside this little apartment.

But there is no feeling in the world like going home.  

You know when you're little and you pack your bag and announce that you're "running away!" and your Mom says, "Well, I will miss you." and helps you pack your bag. You sit on the driveway for 20 whole minutes before you finally give up and go in. But not without thinking "Well, I showed her. Next time, I'll actually leave!"

You want to run away so somebody notices, or something like that. You're young, you're dumb. Your Mom just doesn't get it, clearly. But you know she loves you and it will break her heart if you leave.

That's what it was like for me. Except I didn't sit on the driveway. Actually I did a few times, and then one day I just never went home. It wasn't a big plan, it was a split second decision and I went with it. I went with it every day until it was too late to go home.

I just ran away.

And then I had to start over. And I had to cope with what I did. And my God, it sucked.

I am not a crier...(unless you give me some alcohol and then I'll cry because you looked at me funny or because Chloe isn't allowed to sleep on the bed and I simply can't understand why we made that rule, it's so mean). Instead I lay on the floor with my headphones and I turn the volume up until I drown out my thoughts... I go through several headphones yearly.

So when I finally got the job offer, I did a little happy dance and then sat on the floor and cried.

Happy tears. I finally realized that this empty feeling I've been carrying around felt a lot like being homesick. And moving to my hometown will be the closest thing to home I have been in almost 2 years. And then I cried some more. Like, had to re-do my makeup, ugly cry.

I am relieved, to say the least. I feel like I'm closing a chapter. We'll call it the 'Lost Years' so that I have a name for the shit show my life has been.

Of course, it hasn't been a total loss. Somewhere in this big mess that I made, I began to find things. I found my old self. The one that didn't have to go to play dates, or story time or keep up with Jones'. I found a boy that taught me that being paid attention to is nice, and I quite enjoy it. I found that my friends can be are the family I lost. I found that I can still be myself, and be a Mom.

I'm not totally there yet, but I'm on my way.

So with all that sappy sh*t, I thought I'd share my happy place.

This place, with these kids, brought me such joy in some of the darkest times of my life.

Enjoy :)

It was a good day when I got a bed. 

You don't even want to know how I transported it in my little 2 door Honda. 

It's safe to say that my bed is the favorite. 

Most nights I am joined by at least one little body, and occasionally two. Sometimes I laugh when I wake up to find that one of them has sprawled out at the foot of the bed and one is upside down. One morning I woke up to find that even Chloe had joined us (which she is not allowed to do) and I wasn't even mad. I didn't want to get out of bed. It's cozy this way. 

Of course, just because certain things in my life have changed, doesn't mean I've completely changed. I still love a good trip to Ikea, a day full of Pinterest projects, and of course overspending at Target. 

I have put my heart into making this place my own, and I love the way it's turned out. 

Granted, I am still working on convincing the landlord to rip the carpet up...

But I like it here. It's home.

And just for fun, I made this video last summer and never posted it. An official home tour! :

We are happy here. 

We are kind of bursting at the seams, but it just reminds us that we do not need all the things.