Exhaustion And Equality

I am not much of a blogger anymore. I don't think it is a time issue but more of a motivation issue.

I am definitely doing things---raising four kids, preparing to become a high school teacher, trying to keep my family physically and mentally healthy throughout the Covid-19 pandemic and recent Black Lives Matter protesting.

But I find that I am more likely to sit on the couch when we are home because I have become more addicted to my phone to try and connect with the outside world in whatever way I can.

I'm not proud of that. It's just a fact. 

When the Coronavirus hit the United States and stay-at-home orders were put into place, I had recently become the foster parent of Baby Ry and was in the middle of my student teaching. In those first few weeks, I regretted taking in a new foster child because I was struggling. I was scared. But I honestly had NO idea that we would end up in quarantine. I had no idea that I would be inside my home with four children on my own, trying to juggle my own life with homeschooling and virtual foster care visits. It. Was. A. Lot. And that's ok because we figured it out and I am grateful for Baby Ry being in our home.


In January and February, we were still chuckling over the panic that would sweep with the word "coronavirus". Remember when everyone was so scared about H1N1? I figured this would be like that. And my goodness, I was wrong.

As the country started opening, I heard about the murder of George Floyd. I watched the video and cried. I watched part of the video of Ahmad Arbery and cried. I watched videos of riots and buildings burning down. I didn't know what to do or how to make sense of everything.

I tucked Nixon in to bed at night and cried. I turned on America's Got Talent to take a break from the emotional exhaustion and an amazing black singer came on who had been wrongfully imprisoned for 34 years. More crying.

The weekend where most of this was happening, I was home alone with the two babies and Nixon would watch me cry and just squeeze my cheeks and snuggle into me. I know it was confusing for my 2-year-old to watch me cry so much but I was crying for him. I was crying for everyone like him.


I look at my son---my beautiful, black son---and see all of the good within him. I want him to live in a world that sees his goodness. I NEED him to live in a world that will treat him equal to his brother and sister, even if he makes mistakes in his adult life.

You see, I am not going to turn this into an argument of whether George Floyd or Ahmad Arbery had clean records. The truth is, I don't give a damn if they did or if they didn't. 

I keep looking at my son, a child who will grow up with some trauma associated with foster care and adoption and in-utero drug exposure, and I will not promise that he will live a perfect life. I will spend my time teaching him right from wrong, expressing all of the positive qualities within him, and hope he makes good choices as an adult.

BUT IF HE DOESN'T...
And this is the key point here

I want to trust that my son will be given the same treatment and opportunities that his older brother and sister have. I want to trust that he isn't abused or murdered if the police are called on him.

I am scared for my son. I would give my life so he could live in a world that celebrates the color of his skin, rather than feels threatened by it.

I get daily compliments on how adorable he is---that blonde hair and those green eyes are uniquely Nixon---but I need people to celebrate those things about him when he grows up too.

I can do everything in my power to teach Nixon that he is loved and wanted but the truth is, if he goes out and the world tells him he is less worthy than the rest of our family because of the color of his skin, he is going to internalize that.


The past few months have been hard. I have felt isolated and scared. I have struggled with anxiety.

Luckily, I have found ways to ease some of those dark feelings through tik tok dances (not kidding) and making sure I get some sunshine every day. Before this quarantine, I had never really let the kids play in the driveway because we have a backyard. Now, we spend a lot of time in our driveway, eager to wave and talk with neighbors as they walk or drive by.

I am grateful for the good times but I am exhausted from the hard stuff.

Being a mother is everything I've ever wanted and I hope my kids understand that on the days I'm overly emotional or struggle with my lack of patience, I am still trying. I am still showing up and trying to figure this all out. And I'll never give up on that because they mean everything to me.

2020: Persist

Persist.

I can't get this word out of my mind. But it doesn't roll off the tongue quite like my past words have and that bothered me.

I searched for synonym words that could bring the same meaning but nothing compared.

I thought about using the word Surrender for a second year in a row because that word has been so powerful for me this past year but I also know I need to have a new focus as this next year begins.

There are huge changes on the horizon.

Two weeks into 2020, I am finally beginning my student teaching journey.

I. Am. So. Scared.

Fourteen weeks of no income and not having the flexible schedule to balance motherhood and work. It just feels like a lot. It IS a lot.

I'm worried I won't be a good teacher. I'm worried I'm not smart enough. But I'm utilizing my word from this year--surrender--and I'm just giving all of those fears to God and moving forward.

2019 was one of our best. And surrendering my life to what God asked of me was hard but good.

In August, I pulled the plug on our crazy dance life. I still miss it. It's still hard. But a lot of that is because of status. Having a daughter who was incredibly talented made me feel like I was crushing motherhood just a little more. Weird--but true. The competitive dance world is hard and giving it up for the betterment of my family was not an easy decision. I really think God ultimately made the decision because the day I made that choice, I just couldn't see my life moving forward with dance. I miss watching Hayley on stage. I really do. But I love the time our family has spent together the past four months.

I surrendered my life to God when I chose to adopt Nixon. It didn't necessarily make sense to those outside of our family. And I had fears regarding that huge decision too. I was scared I wouldn't be enough for him on my own. But I also know how much I love this boy and so I surrendered my worries to my Heavenly Father and put all of my trust for our futures in His hands.

I truly learned a lot from surrendering a lot of big decisions last year. Utilizing the word surrender helped me to be able to let go of anxiety and have faith.

In 2020, I really feel like we are going to make some huge, positive changes. 
-Finishing school and *hopefully* being able to find a teaching job will allow me to spend more time with my family and support our family more.
-Continuing to foster and serve our community will push us to grow as a family and learn from each child we have in our home.
-Hayley is starting the Young Woman program at church and with that, she will experience growth and hopefully be able to find more friendships at church. She will also go to junior high this year--not loving that thought right now--but more opportunities for growth!
-Andersen is also starting a new church program that I think will help him to grow and make more friends.
-Nixon is turning 2 this year and that's all sorts of weird. He is going to be a whole different kid by the end of the year because he seems to be changing and growing every day!
-And I've got some other goals on the horizon that are personal to me.

Persistence is such an important role in all of this. To me, persistence means not giving up when things get uncomfortable.

A year ago, I gave up on my student teaching because I was spread way too thin and could not see myself giving enough attention to student teaching and my family. Because our dynamic is different this year, I am ready to power through the scary moments.

Persistence is a reminder that if I have a hard day or a hard week, I need to look ahead and fight for the good days. Persistence means not giving up on my mental health and continuing to learn how to care for myself so that I can better care for my children.

This is my year, y'all. 

I can feel it. 

Six Years

Six years ago, I was a completely different person.

I hardly ever questioned my future. I just figured it was all going to work out the way I had planned. Because I was a huge proponent of plans.

Six years ago, I thought we would open up a foster license or figure out the process to adopt because we were struggling with infertility. Infertility seemed to equivalently draw us closer together and drive us further apart. It was a weird phenomenon.

I thought I'd be able to stay home with my kids as I worked through my college degree and then I'd eventually work 2-3 days a week as a Marriage and Family Therapist. I had signed up for night classes so the kids wouldn't feel the loss of me being gone so much during the day.

Six years ago feels like a lifetime. Sometimes I try so hard to remember how I used to feel or react or the beliefs I had. All of it has changed. Everything started to shift six years ago.

But it wasn't some huge negative thing that ruined my life.

I built a new one. 

I'm still hilarious (obviously) and sarcastic and love to laugh. I still like to have serious discussions and get to know the background of people's lives. I am still extremely sensitive and hate confrontation.

But my priorities have shifted. 

I could be done with school right now. I could've gotten a masters degree and be working as a licensed therapist right now. I chose not to because I felt strongly that I needed to be with my kids as much as possible.

And then our dance life got so crazy and although I was with my kids in the afternoons/evenings, I felt like we didn't have very much time to connect.

After realigning that, I have remembered my original purpose for only wanting to work the hours my kids were in school. It is the reason that a teaching degree was so appealing to me. And it is the reason I finally submitted my paperwork to finish my student teaching.

I've been paralyzed with moving forward since December of last year. For a while, I thought about throwing away ALL of the schooling I've done and just work the job I've worked for over ten years. I like comfort. New things bring me anxiety.

But then I thought about this past year and how up until February of 2019, I had fully planned on taking in Nixon's biological baby brother that was about to be born. I told our caseworker I would do anything to keep the boys together. And then I just couldn't make it work. I was working two jobs. I was raising three kids on my own. I prayed about it and taking his brother in as a newborn was not right for our family. I hated that answer. But I followed it and am glad I did.

This past week, I've thought about Baby Brother so many times. I've thought about why I said no and what would've happened if I had said yes. And I realized that although I don't regret taking Brother, I do regret the time I've spent over-exerting myself instead of just breathing and raising my babies.

That's really all I want out of life. 

I think that's what makes these past six years so significant to who I am now. I've done a lot of things I never thought I was capable of doing on my own. I'm adopting Nixon in about three weeks. I'm spending time with my favorite people. And I'm going to finish school and have a career as a high school English teacher.

It probably looks similar to how things were six years ago. But the feelings are different. My opinions are different. And I'm starting to feel a little less paralyzed by fear these days.

So cheers to the next six years. If they push me to grow as much as the past six years have, I'm pretty much going to be perfect by then.

Time to stick around and see, y'all. ;)

Surrendering The Big Stuff

Surrender. 

What I've learned throughout the past eight months is that I suck at surrendering.

Because I am a professional control freak. Or at least I try to be. 


Surrendering so much this year has been amazing. And extremely scary. I have taken some of my hardest decisions and consulted God in the process, trying to figure out what He wants for our family.

I found that some of the hardest decisions made the most sense. 

As you know, we've been a competitive dance family for 7+ years. I have found myself basing a lot of life decisions around dance. Because how can you not? Competitive dance (especially when you're working a second job to pay for it) runs your life. It just does. 

Can I continue to be a foster parent? Probably not because I teach dance on Saturdays and finding babysitters is so hard on me. 

Can we take a small vacation as a family? Probably not because all of my extra money needs to be set aside for hotels and competitions and nationals, etc. 

Can my kids try out for the school musical? Nope---because dance is 4-5 days a week. 

You get the point. 

Around June, it was beginning to haunt me. I remember jokingly asking my friend how I was going to hold on as my 11-year-old danced throughout the next 7 years. How was I going to afford it? How would I be able to devote extra time to my boys? How would I student teach when I have to be at the studio to teach dance at 4pm? And how would I get enough classes to cover her dance fees when I couldn't teach past 6:30pm when daycare closed?

This past year had burned me out. I was at the studio until 8:30-9pm a few nights a week, with a teething/crawling/walking/whining baby boy and an older boy who would spend hours on his iPad.

Home cooked meals were a joke. Our house was always a disaster. I was definitely over-doing it. Definitely, definitely.

But then this precious girl of mine would thank me for making her dreams come true and allowing her to develop her passion and I'd tell myself we would figure this out, year after year. I'd figure it out if it killed me.


I held on in July. I went back to teaching and realized my schedule would be lighter this year---awesome as far as time with my boys, not awesome as far as paying for competitive dance.


I'd like to point out that when I say I held on, that was coupled with anxiety attacks at least weekly. But I smiled through it. I danced with my cutest dance babies through it. I stayed busy and told myself I'd sit down to figure out the logistics later.


I can't explain exactly what happened the day I decided we had to quit. I can't quite explain the emotions that went into it or the firm answer to prayer that life without dance was still life. That may seem ridiculous to need that answer but I did. 


I struggled with it at work. I sobbed to my sister. I didn't want to tell my kids. I didn't want to tell anyone at dance.

But I knew it was the only way I'd start to feel mentally healthy again. 


So at the beginning of August, I sat in the parking lot just outside of my kids school and told them we were taking a break from competitive dance for this year. And it was hard. We all cried. We cried for a few days.


But things began to turn around as the kids told me other things on their wishlist of activities. They tried out for the school play and both made it. We've gotten homework done every single day and had more home cooked meals as a family. We've spent so much time together in the afternoons. I't's been so different in the best way. 


Do I miss it? Yes and no. I miss the relationships. I miss watching Hayley shine on stage. I miss watching Andersen make new friends. I miss seeing the love that everyone has for Nixon. They've literally watched him grow from a newborn to a toddler.

But I don't miss the competitive stuff that gave me anxiety or worrying about how I was going to pay for it all. I don't miss stressing that Hayley wasn't working hard enough, only for her to come home in tears because she felt like she was working hard. None of this is a complaint about her teachers or her studio. If we hated them, we would've left a long time ago. The truth is that we loved Dance Republic. We loved the teachers. We loved all of our friends. Saying goodbye to what was a main priority in our lives was so hard. I know it won't be the same. I know the relationships have to shift. Hayley's dance friends are super busy and she isn't anymore.


But the amount of joy I have felt as we are preparing to adopt Nixon is worth those heartaches that we've felt. 


Surrendering answers in my life to God is not easy for me. This decision was one of those huge ones that I have fought for a while. But what I'm learning is that surrendering my life to God and His plan for me is going to bring us the most long-term happiness and peace.

And that is what I need the most right now.

2019 : Surrender

It's been a few months, y'all.

So first of all---hi. I've missed you. 

It is already the 8th of January and although I picked my word a few days ago, I've been enjoying my time with my three babies and all of our holiday crazy.

So here I am, ready to write an update for you that includes my 2019 word.

2018 was the year. It is the best year we've had since divorce.

It wasn't an easy year. But it was our best one to date. 

In 2018, here are some things our family accomplished: 

• Andersen performed as a meerkat in a production of The Lion King and was absolutely adorable. 
• I fractured my toe/foot teaching dance, literally just by being kicked by a 10 year old. Darn dancers and their strong legs. ;) 
• Hayley landed her round-off, back-tuck like a freaking boss. 
• I spent February to May in a classroom at Gilbert High School, observing and tutoring for over 20 hours. 
• Leo. The brightest part of our year was getting a call on Easter Sunday, asking if I'd take a 2 day old baby that was being discharged from the hospital in 20 minutes. That "yes" has changed our lives for the better. And nine months later, he is still changing my life daily. I never knew I could love another human as much as I love Hayley and Andersen but Leo is so equally loved and wanted. 
• I took a 3 hour test that certified me to teach high school English and PASSED. 
• Hayley attended her first Nationals in California with her dance team and they were amazing, coming away with many high titles. 
• Andersen tried out and made the Drones hip hop team at Dance Republic and now says dance is his very favorite sport and that he wants to do it forever, just like his big sister. 
• I interviewed at 5-6 high schools, being turned down each time but learning more and more about myself and how to interview each time. 
• I spent October to December in three different classrooms at San Tan Charter HS, observing, tutoring, and teaching for over 55 hours. 
• I was offered a job teaching high school English and through lots of prayer, I turned it down because it was not what was right for my family at this time. As hard as that was to try and make sense of why I would turn down a job I've worked toward, I've only felt peace since that moment. 
• I got a daith piercing that has significantly helped my migraines. And after doing that, I went off of caffeine and have done really well with that! 
• Leo has accomplished rolling, sitting up, laughing, learning to make various sounds, and getting super chubby and pretty tall for his age---cause he's just an overachiever like that. 
• I finished my very last semester of school and decided to postpone my student teaching for a semester while I figure out some big decisions for my life. 
• Hayley got glasses and looks absolutely adorable in them. 
• I got to be a guest on a podcast with my friend, Emily, talking about my divorce and co-parenting and my life now. 
• Hayley turned 10. 
• Andersen turned 9. 
• I turned 31. 
• Leo stayed 0. 
• Andersen lost two teeth. 
• Leo got two teeth. 
• Leo had his head shaved and got a Doc Band helmet that he will be wearing for the next 4 months. 
• Both of the olders are flourishing and doing well in school. 
• And although this will eventually be it's own post, we are hoping to adopt Leo sometime in 2019 and are praying that God can carry us through whatever plans He has for Leo's life. 

There is so much more, I'm sure. I could continue to tell you all of the amazing things my kids are doing and accomplishing. They truly inspire me to be a better person. 

I've been pondering on 2018 and my word for the year---forgiveness. 

I really feel like this was a year where God worked miracles in my heart that helped me to see so far beyond what I thought I was capable of seeing. 

I have spent this year mending friendships and letting go of ones that can't be mended. I've spent a significant amount of time working through any resentment still in my heart from my divorce and our difficult court trial last January. I've also worked through a lot of healing with my therapist to forgive myself. 

It is not over. I don't know if it ever will be. I am continuously on this scale of hating myself, loving myself, and forgiving myself for my life decisions. In fact, I feel as though I am still somewhere on that continuum with my ex-husband or others who have hurt me in my past. 

2018 was my year of miracles. I look back on the mostly-smooth co-parenting and the fact that I was able to raise a tiny newborn while working two jobs and going to school full time. It wouldn't have been possible without all of the miracles God placed in our lives. 

It wouldn't have been possible without all of you. 

As I thought about what I want 2019 to represent, the first thought that came to my mind is my need want for control in all aspects of my life. 

I struggle with OCD and anxiety daily.

I like control because if I can stay in control of a situation, my brain tells me that I won't get hurt.

It's not effective. I still get hurt. And my need for control usually just makes me sick with anxiety. It doesn't actually change the things that are happening.

So I'm going to try something in 2019 that I think I'm ready for.

Surrender.

I want to surrender the obsessive controlling that I try to do. This is actually something I've been working on for a while but I need it to be at the forefront this year.

As I pray for the adoption of my Leo boy, I want to surrender the feelings of control and worry that come with each court hearing and caseworker visit. Leo is my second experience with foster care but my first experience with adoption. I've known from the beginning that he was different. Even when they told me at a week old that he would only be with us for a few more days or when they changed their minds right before the last two court hearings and decided not to change the case plan to severance. We have a connection unlike anything I ever thought I could experience with a foster placement. And as this situation unfolds and we continue to love our little guy, it is SO hard not to want to control all of the things. But the truth is, I can't control it. DCS could take him tomorrow and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it. But I want to stop prolonging my enjoyment of watching my baby boy grow up by being scared that I'm going to lose him. I want to surrender those fears to my Heavenly Father and just be Leo's mom right now, in this moment.

As a person who will forever be co-parenting with my children's dad and their step-mom, I want to surrender the need to control each situation that presents itself. Co-parenting is not easy. It is ever-changing as the kids get older and as our personal lives change. I've had two different babies in my home. Their dad got married. Our dynamics have changed many times. And I still feel threatened by his wife sometimes and her relationship with our kids. I hate that I do it but I do. I still get scared that somehow, they will like her more than they like me. I'm still completely overprotective and get frustrated with any little mistake I hear has happened at their other house. And that---THAT is why I need to work on surrendering to Heavenly Father's plan. Because his plan involves my children being loved by myself, their dad, AND their step-mom. And it is a beautiful thing that my children have so many people who love them and care about them. No matter what that looks like or how it is given, all three of us love these kids. And that is a positive thing.

Over the years, my faith has been so strong in believing that God was going to place a future spouse in my life. It is something that is on my mind often. Being single is not easy and I often feel like I'm drowning, trying to keep up on paying bills and making sure my children's needs are met and somehow finding a minute for myself. I'm emotional about this one---because it's the hardest one for me to surrender. Although I am never going to give up on the potential for a future spouse, I think it is time that I surrender the belief that it  will  happen. There have been so many times where I did not know how to make my paycheck stretch and would have the thought, "If only I had a spouse who could provide another income in our home, then we will be ok.". There have been so many times where I realize the kids have more than one thing happening at the same time and I think, "If only I had a spouse, then I wouldn't have to feel anxious about getting my kids places.". There have been so many times where I've wanted to make a decision that feels right or easy but I am not sure I can say yes to it---because how would I take that on without a spouse?

2019 has some huge decisions and changes in the air. Some of those decisions, I can guarantee I will be judged for, solely based on the fact that I am single.

I mean, it sure as hell doesn't make sense that I would turn down a job that would increase our income. And it doesn't make sense that I foster and will possibly adopt other children when we have such a crazy schedule.

I get it. I'd probably look at me like I was crazy too, if I were you. 

But what I wish more than anything is that people could look at my life and understand that I am trying my best and that my main priority is being a mom and raising my children. I'd do anything for my kids---which includes turning down a job that would greatly decrease the amount of time I'd be able to spend with them.

And maybe to some of you, foster children are not my children---maybe that's the part that makes the least sense---but I believe they are my children. In fact, I believe they are all of our children.

God has asked me to take on some huge responsibilities in my life, ones that feel right but seem daunting. I'm scared. But I am trying to surrender to His will---not mine or yours.

I made my castle tall
I built up every wall
This is my kingdom and it needs to fall
I want You and no one else
Empty me of myself
Until the only thing that's left is

More of You
Less of me
Make me who I'm meant to be
You're all I want all I need
You're everything
Take it all I surrender
Be my king
God I choose
More of You
Less of me

More of You

This life I hold so close
Oh, God I let it go
I refuse to gain the world and lose my soul
So take it all I abandon everything I am You can have it
The only thing I need is

More of You

All to you

I surrender

All to you my blessed Savior

I surrender all

On My Worst Days

It started on Sunday. Or maybe before Sunday but that day felt significantly hard. 

The panic over not being able to provide for my children for 12 weeks while I am student teaching is setting in. It's right in front of me, only a few months away, and it is affecting my mental health.

Feeling like I'm asking for too much or relying on others makes me uncomfortable.

And on Monday morning, I said goodbye to my children for the week and immediately drove to a job interview.

Knocked. It. Out. Of. The. Park. 

I left feeling on top of the world. Maybe my circumstances would change. Maybe I wouldn't have to student teach. Maybe God had placed that job interview in my path at the exact time when I was needing it most.


And then the rejection email came on Wednesday. On the day when I realized my baby boy was getting sick and vomited all over me at dance.

I felt completely kicked when I was already down. 

And then on Thursday, I felt more rejection after a difficult conversation with someone I had put a lot of faith and trust in. More shame for feeling like I'm not providing enough for my babies. More anxiety as I felt more being put on my already-full plate.

It didn't fully hit me that night. I was sad. I was anxious. I felt completely stupid. But it wasn't until Friday when Leo was still sick and I had to leave work early to get him that I started to lose it.

Like fully lose it. 

"Sobbing to one of my best friend's on a Marco Polo" losing it. 

And all of this in the parking lot of dance before I walked in to teach.

I've lost it a few more times between yesterday and today. Each time, it is when I'm alone and feeling the depth of everything being placed in my path.

There is a lot going on right now. And I feel like I am just treading water in the middle of the ocean, waiting to see if I'm going to make it or if my legs are going to give out.

And why am I writing this down? Why, if you are a close friend, have I not told you personally? 

It's probably because when I speak these things out loud, I cry. And what I'm trying to do is continue to tread that water and not completely drown. Crying takes energy and makes me feel weak. And I'm hanging on by a thread over here.

Somehow, I'm still passing all of my classes. Somehow, I'm still working two jobs. Somehow, I'm still raising three children.

But it doesn't feel as amazing this week as it normally does. 

More than one circumstance from this week has made it feel less amazing. My brain has decided that I'm not getting by because I'm strong---I'm getting by because everyone else is making it possible. It has nothing to do with me.

My heart knows that isn't true. 

But the inner struggle between my heart and my brain has left me feeling exhausted and confused. I'm having a hard time believing that somehow, I've made this all happen for us. I'm feeling like a fraud---like the only reason I'm passing my classes is because I half-ass every assignment and they must feel sorry and give me points for effort. Or like the only reason I am providing for my children is because everyone around me helps out and feels sorry that I'm a single mom and I have NO idea what providing for a family 'in the real world' looks like. Or like the only reason I am able to raise Leo is because the government financially assists his life and not because I'm actually a good mom or that my love is what is helping him to thrive.

These are the real struggles. The un-sugarcoated mess that has been swirling around in my brain and tells me I'll never be good enough to actually be successful. These are the fears I currently have that tell me I'm not successful, that I should have this all figured out after five years of divorce and that I rely too much on the fact that I'm a single mom.

The phrase "single mom" just feels like some nasty crutch that I've apparently used for way too long. 

I don't always leave the darkness here---the reality of how I feel on my worst days or the struggle I have with feeling like I'm good enough to succeed at anything.

I have been rejected before and although I feel like that should prepare me better for more rejection, it just seems to have me feeling worse.

I am not going to happily end this blog post. I already know that once my babies are back tomorrow, I'll feel immersed in the joys of raising them. But this week was awful. It broke me down. I felt worthless and ashamed and childish.


And there is no sugarcoating those feelings. They just are. 










PS: It is really hard for me to just leave this here as is. I so badly want to wrap it up with a positive message. I don't like when people are worried about me. That isn't the point of this. And in fact, I don't need the worries because this isn't the first or last time I will feel this way. But it needs to be written and intertwined with my blog posts about how everything wraps up perfectly in a pretty little bow. Because life does not always wrap up in a pretty little bow! 

Anxiety Update

Months ago, I wrote THIS post about my anxiety disorder and how it affects my life. I stumbled upon it today while looking for something else I had written and it just seemed to hit me that my anxiety has been quieter lately.

Without medication.

It's a personal story as to how and why I went off of my anxiety medication but that was over two months ago and realizing that my anxiety has been a little more distant in the past few weeks has me feeling a lot of positive-emotional feelings.

You see, I'm not an advocate for medication and I'm not an advocate for a more natural approach to dealing with anxiety.

I'm an advocate for doing what feels right for YOU.

That advice alone, because it kind of isn't even advice, is the only kind of advice I would give you if you asked me whether you should take medication or use essential oils or drink coffee or see an energy healer to aide your anxiety.

The things that have worked for me in the past 6 years of dealing with the worst parts of my anxiety disorder have changed throughout time. Sometimes, medication helps the most. Sometimes, it aggravates what my body is feeling.

I've learned that it doesn't have to make sense to anyone else for it to be the right thing for me.

I'm still an anxious person. I still hate when my kids are not with me. I still think about the day when/if I'll have to say goodbye to my precious Leo boy and feel a sense of panic.

But I have been handling those ups and downs so much better lately. 

And maybe I'm on here writing just to say how thankful I am for these times in my life where I'm handling everything pretty well.

Because I can't really think of another reason why any of you would need an update on the current medications I'm taking. ;)

I'm just grateful that life has been so beautiful lately. Co-parenting has been effortless. Teaching dance has been a huge highlight. Raising my three babies has been so rewarding.

It's just all going right, right now. And I'm so thankful for that.