Muddling & Mishaps - Reality Blogging

I have been battling a dark demon for the last five months. It started when I got my new job. I had been working in an organization that I thought was "the one", that had a mission that I loved with all of my heart. It was good work - but that work began to suffocate me. The case load was unmanageable, even for the most obsessive of perfectionists and maximum-drive, perpetually-unhealthy overachievers (not that I'm assigning labels to myself or anything). Furthermore, the work was so emotional - heartfelt and beautiful most of the time, but inexplicably painful at others. No matter what the emotion, there was no time to process it. Add into that a 24/7 on-call rotation, the loss of summers to the busiest work season of the year...it all became too much for me.  I found a new job - decent pay, even better benefits, room for potential growth, and most importantly, a healthy separation of work and life. My days became balanced, and my house got (a little) cleaner. I

I gave up my sleep. I think that was the first thing to go. From the second I was pregnant, I was uncomfortable and practically an insomniac. People would always joke that it was my body's way of prepping me for the lack of sleep that comes with a newborn...and, of course, the word "joke" is used quite loosely here, because we all know that there's nothing funny about a pregnant woman who can't sleep. My body. I gave that up, too. There are some women who get pregnant and have just the most precious bump with this glow that could make angels sing hymns of praise quietly in the background wherever she roams. And I was not one of those women. Cute little baby bump morphed quickly into "WOOOOOOOAH BABY" bump. The "glow" for me was just sweat from being nauseous constantly. Stretch marks etched themselves into my skin, like they were really hoping I would take up a side-gig as a zebra somewhere once the child was born. Everything I ate, drank, br

It broke my heart when I logged into this age-old site and realized that my last true post was in 2016. Has it really been that long? Have I put off writing to that extent? I even checked my other projects - little things here and there that I've been working on, including a journal that I used to keep daily. The last entry of any kind was well over a year ago. My initial reaction was to cuss under my breath about how tapped out I am at the end of my work day. My job requires a level of concentration, multi-tasking, organization and emotional detachment that is well beyond anything I've ever had to do. And, although that is definitely a huge part of it all, that's not the "real" reason for me abandoning a creative outlet that has brought me joy for as long as I can remember. Truthfully, it boils down to one thing:  A lack of simplicity. I've trudged through some of the most complex and difficult moments of my life since 2016. The only true take-away fr

"Hun. Could you get up and get him. Please?" Another 5 AM wake-up call after a night where Teddy woke up once in the middle of the night. Wait - maybe it was twice. I can't remember. (Although I can  remember running into the door frame as I went to get him back to sleep.) Tim doesn't usually answer my request right away, because we are both secretly giving in to that amnesia state of mind where Teddy falls back asleep, both kids sleep past 7 AM, Clinton and Trump drop out of the presidential race, and all is right with the world. But, after a few moments of Teddy squawking - followed by him banging his paci against the crib's bars of oppression - Tim rolls out of bed and trudges towards the door. It's our unspoken contract:  I get up with Teddy in the night, and he lets me sleep in for an extra fifteen minutes so I can be a kinder, gentler soul. Fast-forward to 7:30 AM, where Tim is kissing foreheads and running out the door while I'm pouring myse

It's been ages since I've written up a blog.  And truthfully, it's not for a lack of trying - it's embarrassing how many half-hearted, lousy entries I have drafted and stored away, never to be seen by anyone but me.  (Well, me AND the NSA.) I keep stumbling upon topics that make me unbelievably passionate, topics that have me stewing for the entire day as I mull over ways to say what I want to say.  As soon as I get to the keyboard, though, I blank. ...Actually, it isn't blanking.  It's almost as if my brain is shutting down before I allow myself to spill out all of the pent up frustration and emotion that I've been twisting and twirling endlessly in my head.  A cross between mental fatigue and a safeguard. For example, the whole story regarding the gorilla and the three year old  threw me into this downward spiral of reading way. too. damn. much.  I read articles about what happened, and then the comments on those articles (which, might I add, is a on

The word "overwhelmed" seems to resonate in my life at this point in time. For starters, our world has been rattled by our six-month-old son over the past three weeks.  What started as a double ear infection quickly turned into the realization that he is highly allergic to amoxicillen.  After being referred to an allergist and watching the poor little guy endure a skin test, we learned that he's also highly (if not severely) allergic to dairy, eggs and peanuts.  Shortly after the skin test, he got a ridiculously bizarre GI bug that spun out of control and dovetailed into another allergic reaction, resulting in one ER trip, one abdominal ultrasound, one blood test, and a total of five doctors' office visits over the course of seven days.  He's fine now...but, let's be real... My friends - the past three weeks have royally sucked. It's hard for me to wrap my head around Teddy's allergies.  Can you imagine a world without cheese?  Because I can'