But, right now my daughter is downstairs watching a Disney Princess movie as she decompresses after school and I have been trying to think of the right way to articulate what I want to convey with this post, and all that keeps coming into my head are the lyrics from the Broadway version of “Beauty and the Beast”. Human again.

So let me give this a try.

Life around here has been extra tough

tumultuous

trying

tiresome

lately. But, because this is not actually my story to tell, I am not going to do so; You can just take my word for it.

If these past two years were a mountain climb, I can say that we fell down the mountain many times and even when we got back up we were faced with things like unexpected hail storms and serious injuries. But This past week, man. This past week has been the part of the mountain where all of a sudden the incline becomes impossibly steep and trees appear, creating a canopy so dark that it is hard to see the surroundings and there are snakes. Lots of slithery snakes.

But, something amazing happened. I am scared to even type it, for I don’t want to jinx anything (we all know that I am incredibly superstitious) but this week, my lungs were able to adapt to the altitude, my legs were able to manage the tough incline and my eyes could see keenly through the darkness.

This is not to say that I have reached the top of the mountain; Actually, if I think about it, I don’t think I ever want to reach the top of the mountain. My goal is to keep climbing, to keep going up and up and getting stronger along the way, seeing more and more of the world around me as I get so high.

In any case, something kind of miraculous happened for me.

For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt like a human again.

March of 2012-October of 2013 I was a pregnant woman.

November 2013 I started with the severe postpartum depression and since then it has been a journey of battles and falls and sickness and weakness.

I have felt so fragile. Sometimes, I have been incredible fragile emotionally, and other times, I have been so very fragile physically and then, at the worst of times, it was both.

I have felt like this delicate shell of myself, going through the motions of life, which were too hard to begin with, and feeling so much like an other (which, by the way, I do embrace).

But, this week, I felt human again.

I can’t explain the shift, but it is perceptible to those close to me as well.

This week I was able to attend several social functions, despite incredibly stressful things going on in my personal life. I was able to work hard professionally and on my journey towards healing.

I enjoyed my friends and my family and life in a way that I haven’t in years. Literally, years.

I stopped losing weight for the first time since September. As I mentioned in the highlighted post before this, I am incredibly sensitive as to avoid any triggers for my readers. But let’s just say this. I stopped the loss, stabilized, and have gained a couple of pounds. This may seem like a small victory, but after having lost weight every single week consistently since September, this is huge. For me, it is huge.

And I am going to keep going because I have to keep going because I want to keep going.

When I was out for my one of my oldest and very best friend’s 30th birthday party on Saturday night, I got to sit next to two of my other very best friends and enjoy delicious food and laughter as we reminisced about the past. My friends, who have been very worried about me, didn’t worry about me as I sat next to them, that night. It isn’t that I am all better; I am far from it. But I am better. I feel human again.

For the past six months I have had a uniform, mostly because my normal clothing has not fit; Black leggings, a long tank and a sweater. This past week I branched out, wearing clothing in my closet that I have never touched before, trying new things, finding a new personal style. I wore a silk blazer with over the knee boots one night and a one piece, black lace jumpsuit the next.

The shift in me was never so palpable as it was yesterday, Sunday, as my family of four went to the mall.

This may seem like a mundane activity, but for us, it was a huge accomplishment for many reasons.

And not only did we go to the mall, but we went with no agenda. I had no timeline, nothing was off-limits. We let our kids create stuffed animals at Build-A-Bear and my husband and I looked at each other with tears in our eyes.

“Crying happy.”

We went shoe shopping for my daughter, and as both of my kids walked around, I pushed a stroller that contained one Rainbow Bunny and one Superman Bear.

My daughter said, “Mommy, it’s like we have three kids, but I’m the nicest one.”

I was reveling a bit in my new status as a human being, as we were getting ready to pay for my daughter’s shoes.

“Can I ask you a secret question?” My daughter leaned into me. “Is this the place with the popovers?”

“No,” I said. “That is Neiman Marcus, but if you want to go there, we can go there for a special, late lunch.”

I was able to go with the flow, something that has never been easy for me.

And then…

My son got lost.

My son got lost on the top floor of Nordstrom.

My son, who does not know how to effectively communicate, wandered off on a busy Sunday and was nowhere to be found. My husband ran to get security so that they would lockdown the store and I held my daughter’s hand as we searched and asked people if they had seen a little boy with strawberry blonde hair and glasses.

I consulted with all of the salespeople, and I did not feel anxious; I felt numb. I felt nothing.

In my head I thought, “Oh my god, someone kidnapped my son. What is going to happen to him? What are they going to do to him?” But I couldn’t really feel anything. I think that if I had felt, I would have crumbled, fallen off of the mountain to the very bottom.

I might not have survived.

After the scariest five minutes of our lives, an associate brought my son, his face formed into the saddest pout, into my arms.

I lost my son and was lucky enough to find him. And when my daughter asked if we could still go out for popovers, my husband and I both said that we could. We were shaken, obviously, but we could still function. We could keep going. We could keep living. We were human.

And so, the four of us sat down for our first meal out of 2015 (truly) and we toasted to our little family…over little mugs of chicken consomme.

And we toasted to the fact that it was the 9th anniversary of our first date.

And this little boy was his normal, happy self.

I had this feeling of pride as we left the mall yesterday, 4 hours after we had arrived, because we had done something that we hadn’t been able to do in years; We went out, without a plan, and actually enjoyed it.

Needless to say, I gave my kids extra hugs before bed last night, but I think that the crazy day brought my husband and I closer and that felt good.

This whole idea of being “human again” wasn’t something that I was able to articulate at the time, but today, when I thought about things, I realized that this transformation had occurred, subtly, but profoundly.

Today, I took care of my son, without childcare help, which, again, may seem like nothing to most people, but for me, it was an accomplishment. And, it was a joy.

So now, a day later, I feel a bit stronger. I feel like I have found my voice, with which I can advocate for myself. And I just watched my two kids dance to “Loving Cup” as my husband played the Exile on Mainstreet album through the speakers, filling the house.

Songs swirling in my head, emotions still being teased apart and understood, but all I know is that for the first time that I can remember, I feel human again.

And to feel human again is the greatest feeling,

as now I can keep climbing up my mountain, stronger, more skilled, and with a gratitude and an appreciation for the small things–

an unexpected field of wildflowers,

a break from the sun on a cloudy day,

a family sing-along–

and a-climbing I shall continue to go.

The post Human again. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

First, happy. March 4th is my girl J’s birthday, and yesterday she celebrated the big 3-0.

I stayed up until midnight so I could make sure to wish her a “Happy Day” the moment that it became March 4th. That’s the very least I could do, as this girl deserves so much.

The most special part of J’s birthday, for me, was the outpouring of love that I got to see her receive. She did not just receive the perfunctory “HBD”; People took time to write long and heartfelt notes about what a good human being she is; How she is more giving and loving and positive and warm than anyone else in the world. I am her #1 fan.

Yesterday was also a sad day for my family. It was the 8 year anniversary of when we lost my beloved Uncle. My daughter is named for him, and my son is like a mini version of him; but we still miss him very much.

I was trying to think of how to honor him, yesterday.

My daughter had a late opening at school, so I had to juggle the baby’s nap and driving her in. I let them both get into my bed to snuggle up and at one point I had my son, his head on my shoulder, sleeping soundly on my left side and my daughter, cuddled up on to me, silently, on my right, and I thought, “This is it. This is how I honor him.”

When I picked her up from school at the end of the day, I looked behind me and saw this:

We honor him with love.

On March 4th every year, I have the unique opportunity to mourn the past and celebrate the future.

But from now on, instead of highs and lows, I will just honor the day with love,

for that is what my J

and my Uncle

and our family members (those by blood and those by choice)

deserve.

And nothing less.

The post March Forth, With Love. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

And it’s funny, because some days that seemed really bad ended up turning out ok;

Then, on other days that started out so joyful, storm clouds moved in and things fell apart.

This week I learned that I was capable of strength that I did not know I had; I often see myself as so fragile, but I am not.

This week I learned that there are some people in our lives who are always going to disappoint us.

This week I learned that my people step up to the plate in ways I could never have imagined; I received help from people 16 months-85 years old; My tribe was there for us beyond belief and my new community has turned out to be so much more incredible than I could have ever imagined. #teamMEA.

Sundays are always hard. I think that’s a pretty universal thing–the Sunday Night Blues, we call them–

but today is a bit harder than other Sundays, as I have a big week ahead.

I have been running a very long marathon and this week I find out if I am able to cross the finish line.

Or not.

Today I saw a quote by C.S. Lewis on the Facebook Page of Italia Gandolfo of Gandolfo Helin & Fountain Literary Management, the agency by whom I am represented. I know that as a writer and person, C.S. Lewis is many things, but instead of getting involved in anything religious or political, I will remember him as the author of The Chronicles of Narnia, books I read in elementary school, and that remind me to keep believing in the fantastic.

Because in times like this week, you can do all that you can, you can try your best, you can plan, you can work as hard as possible, you can run that marathon with all of your heart, but sometimes, more than anything, what you need is faith; just the ability to believe that success is possible.

And so I choose to believe that this past week brought me closer to my people; it has shown me what I am made of and made me feel more grateful than ever for the love that is in my life.

And as far as next week…I am not sure how it is going to go,

but I believe, with all of my heart

that there are better things ahead.

The post to believe appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

Today, however, is a day that I will never forget. And that because today was one of my best days as a parent; one of the best times of my life.

Let me first tell you a story.

Six months ago, my daughter woke up one morning and told me that she was ready to get her ears pierced. I had been encouraging her, so I was excited, and picked her up from camp with my mom, her J, who is her godmother, those pastel colored mint nonpareils and many promises of things that she would desire.

We trekked through the mall and found the piercing station, signed all of the paperwork, picked out the earrings and then my daughter completely freaked out. Like, epic, screaming, wailing, terrified of the marker freak out. She was, evidently, not ready. #fail.

It is a subject that has come up on and off since the summer and the conversation has always ended with, “You know what? I am not quite ready yet. I will get my ears pierced when I am ready.”

This morning, out of nowhere, my daughter woke up, came into my room and said, “Mom, I am ready,” with great conviction.

We talked about it and she didn’t back down.

And then, I had a minor anxiety attack. Because of logistics and the hours during which I have my sitter, I  knew that I would have to get her ears pierced around lunch time or a bit after so that I could go without the baby, as I had childcare during those hours only. My daughter attends school 9am-3pm. The idea occurred to me that I could keep her home from school today (I looked at the temperature on my phone and it read 5 degrees) for a special date. But for some reason this made me feel like a bad mother.

I consulted with my husband. I asked my best friends for their opinions. I asked J, who is, among many other specialties, a licensed child psychologist. I posted the question in the incredible Mommy, Ever After community group. “Am I wrong to keep my daughter home from school today to get her ears pierced?” My anxieties were not about academics (she is doing just fine) or the social component (she loves school and has many friends) but for some reason I feared that by keeping her home for no reason would give her school anxiety. And then I thought back to my childhood, when my mom would give me and my sister “mental health days”. My sister and I both went to graduate school, she is an award winning journalist, and neither of us feared school or had trouble making friends or keeping up. The response that I received from my friends was a rousing, “Yes! Keep her home! There is nothing to worry about!” (By the way, in case you are reading this and happen to be one of her teachers, please know that a big part of my anxiety was due to the fact I value and adore you to no end).

So I took a deep breath and emailed the school and said that my daughter would be absent today.

This afternoon, while the baby was at being watched, I had a date with my daughter. On our drive to the mall we had incredible conversations. We talked about being nervous and about how important it is to not let our fears stop us from doing things that we want to do. I did not want to give her any of my phobias, but she already knows that I don’t like snakes, so I used that as an example. “Even though I don’t like snakes, I love to hike in the woods and be in nature,” I explained to her. And this lead to a great conversation about animal classifications and I was able to teach her the difference between mammals, reptiles and amphibians.

A few times during the drive she told me that she was nervous, but we kept repeating our mantra, which was “sometimes things scare us, but we won’t let them stop us!”

My daughter was a rock star today. We went to the piercing place, and although she was very apprehensive, she didn’t back down. The one caveat was that I had to get a piercing first to show her that it does not hurt. (This, I now realize, was an incredibly wise move the day before I am getting an MRI.)

For her earrings, my girl picked out pink stones in the shape of a heart, and had me choose a shining pink heart as well.

“We will be twins!” My own heart was bursting as she sat, stoic and brave, as two women pierced her ears, giving her a sparkling heart in each ear.

She did it.

We celebrated with a special date and I told her I was proud of her as many times as I kissed her (which is a lot).

And then I realized something so important; my earlier anxiety was in vain;

Today, my daughter missed a day of preschool and although she loves her teachers and classmates, she will get to see them every week day until June.

But today my daughter learned something that is impossible to teach without doing.

Sometimes things scare us but we won’t let them stop us.

Today, she learned to trust her instincts; she learned that she was braver than she realized; she learned that I will always have her back; she learned that the world has many things that are scary, but that we can, if we are lucky, conquer our fears.

Today was one of those parenting milestones that I will never forget.

Sometimes things scare us but we won’t let them stop us.

And in a home that is already filled with love, there is still always room for three more hearts.

The post I will never forget. appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

So, this morning, I rummaged the back of the drawer in my bedroom in search of something that I have not seen for two and a half years; my journal.

I bought my journal from Borders, when it used to exist, and the first entry was written by my husband. We were just dating at the time, but met on a work lunch break and he left me a little note.

I used this journal to work on my thesis.

and then in 2012 I used it as my sacred songwriting book, as I spent half a year involved in a musical partnership; I had a talented musician to write the music and I wrote the words.

 It was actually with great pause that I decided to include a page from those particular songwriting days. And the page you see is truly the most legible of all of the notes; the dozens of other pages from that summer are filled with crossed out lines and ink of different colors and notes in the margins and many words are barely readable.

And then, that collaboration ended.

And I was lucky enough to find a new, most fantastic musical home. I found the place where I belong.

In any case, I broke out my journal this morning so that I could write an entry about the new year. I would write about how 2014 was extraordinary in so many ways, and about my hopes for 2015.

But, as I started to write, the one pen that I had that is the kind that I like (I like pushy pens, not the ones with wet ink), kept stalling on me, and I decided that perhaps it wasn’t meant to be; Because, in truth, this has become my journal. This is where I share my deep secrets and fears and most intimate works of writing.

Over the weekend I wrote about being very moved when I took my daughter to see “Into the Woods”.

 Ever since that Sunday matinee, this one line has stuck in my head and I can’t stop singing it:

Sometimes people leave you.
Halfway through the wood.
Others may deceive you.
You decide whats good.
You decide alone.
But no one is alone…

The post I can decide what is good (and I can be good in the process). appeared first on Mommy Ever After.

The post Today I realize appeared first on Mommy Ever After.