The Mended Pieces

It's been awhile since I have posted, and not for a lack of words, but more due to a lack of...umm....time. Remember that elusive thing called "time?" I was talking to a student today who helps me with a program at my job, and she graduates tomorrow from the U with a degree in engineering. She has spent her time at school doing project after paper after project, and being busy roughly about 23 hours of the day. She was telling me how she just moved home, where she plans on living for roughly a year, and she has a job that starts in mid June, and she has NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH HER TIME. Yes, that's right, she goes home in the evening and sits and sleeps, and maybe hits up the gym - but then what? I mean seriously, we were talking about it is almost a form of depression because you go from being so busy to so....not. And then I think about this thing called "time" and how I do not have any of it. I seriously barely am able to go to the bathroom by myself

Today I want to have a temper tantrum. A good ol' fashioned lay on the floor, kick my legs, scream, and a stomp up the stairs. I want to slam my bedroom door, plop on my bed - face buried in my pillow - and cry. I want to lay on the floor for the work it was to lug our winter jackets and all of the things from the pool area into the Family Locker Room after swimming (because mommy forgot the lock for the locker) with Zoey and Logan and there not being a changing room available in the locker room after swimming. For having to stand there with items in my arms, 1 year old running around and 6 year old trying to hug/carry his sister constantly and trying not to lose my cool while I stood there and waited. For the family that tried to budge in front of me that clearly got in the locker room AFTER ME and tried to take MY dressing room. Please, don't even. I want to kick my legs up in the air and on the floor for the McDonald's drive thru when we stopped to get a healthy l

Hey you... Yes. I'm talking to you. The one reading all of my social media, perusing my social media, wondering what happened to me. I see you. I see you reading my posts, looking at my Facebook, combing my Instagram - wondering how me, the person you thought you knew got divorced, remarried, and had a kid. I know you have questions for me. I know you want to know what went wrong, what did he do wrong, what did I do,  were you engaged before you found out your pregnant (yes), or what type of information I'm going to share on here. I'm going to tell you this.... It's none of your business. I have been through a lot. My 1st marriage was a series of happy Facebook posts and pretending like I had it altogether. My inside (sad, upset, depressed, anxious) did not match my outside (fake happy! the pictures!). Psst. Can I tell you a secret? Actually - it is not really a secret....MY INSIDES MATCH MY OUTSIDES NOW! My insides are happy! Excited! Can't wait to se

What do you do when.... ...you are driving with your one year old down the highway (Just you and her) and you are on your way to the doctor's office, and your daughter is coughing so hard and she throws up all over herself? And let's just say, she throws up curdled whole milk...and oh yeah, you pulled the extra set of clothes out of her diaper bag the other day because you wanted her to wear the cute baby "joggers." ...you are out shopping with your one year old and you have to go the bathroom and you have no stroller, you can't bring the cart into the bathroom, and your daughter gets into everything? (do you have her sit in your lap when you go to the bathroom? I mean, were these restrooms designed by a MAN!?) Or...you stop at a gas station on your way to camping in Itasca, and you have to change the baby's diaper, so you get out the changing pad, put it on the floor of the dingy bathroom (that is surprisingly clean). Change her diaper, and then you hav

I am only a month and a half into having a kid in elementary school, and I have already figured out one thing - I cannot keep up. I can be sent reminders a million times but I STILL FORGET. I am going to blame it on having a one year old and a Kindergartner - the distance  between the two can be mind numbing, but really, I think it is more of a personal problem. The fourth week of school, I sent Logan to school on a Monday with his Friday folder STILL in his backpack, totally intact. In other words, my husband flipped through the folder on Friday night and ended up putting it back in his backpack to keep it away from Zoey. Well, there it sat...and was sent back home again on Monday night with Logan exclaiming "MOM, You forgot to take the papers out so my teacher sent it back home." Or maybe it was this past week, when it was "orange day" at school to promote unity. I KNEW I should have invested in that $10 shirt sold through the school so we wouldn't forget,

Dear Logan, Today (10/16) you are 6 years old!! I cannot believe how BIG you are getting (and honestly, where has the time gone!?). You and I didn't get to start out where other mothers and sons do, that is, in talking about the day you were born. Instead, our story started when I met your daddy, and shortly thereafter, I met you. When I met you,  you were just 3 years old + a few months. You already had been through a lot in your short little life, more then ANY kid should have to go through. I remember, I shared a "cutie" orange with you, and you played with some planes you had with. The 2nd time I saw you, I brought you a garbage truck Duplo, and I think I pretty much won you over with that gift. You had a TON of toys (still do), and your house was a mess of your toys (ours still is). Our relationship has grown, to the point where I got to marry you in May of 2015 (daddy is still waiting for you to pay him for your part of the ring! ;) ). You have taught me abo