Tuesday, November 23, 2010

When?

When does it stop hurting?
When does the time come that I can think without it taking my breath away?
When do I stop the tears?
When do I let it go?
When do I accept that he is gone?
When will I finally let it be?

When?
When?

A little over a month ago, a friend from high school took his life. It hit me hard. Harder than I expected. We weren't best friends by any means. He was just a nice guy. I got him. He got me. He wasn't afraid to talk to me, to make me smile. People usually steer clear of the nerds, but not him. He went out of his way to make you happy. I could always count on leaving World History in a better mood than when I went in. He was THAT guy. The one everyone wanted to be around.

Tomorrow is his birthday. I will never forget his birthday. It was in the back of my mind last week, on my birthday. We all would have much rather have been getting together for his birthday party instead of his funeral.

I feel like I should have known. We all do. We should have seen something. We should have been more aware. We kind of feel like we failed him. We somehow let him down by not knowing the demons that were troubling him. We can't blame ourselves. No one is to blame.

We'll never know what the last straw was. We'll never know that moment when he decided this was it. Those are only answers that we think will help OUR troubled minds. We should be more concerned with his. Is he finally at peace?

Marty, I hope you've found the solace you were after. I hope the troubles that were chasing you have finally been laid to rest. I hope you're watching down on all of us. I hope you can see the love that so many people have for you. I hope. I hope I have the strength to help other people battle their demons. I'm going to do my part, and I'm going to do it in your honor. I'm going to stop feeling guilty for enjoying every laugh that you can't hear and every smile you can't see. There's no need to feel this way.

Happy birthday. You are gone but never, ever forgotten, my friend.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

'Tis the Season

The season to start thinking about Christmas cards!! This is a great excuse to catch up with friends and families or to share photos of your kiddos. I have spent a couple of weekends trying to get some decent shots of the munchkins, and I think I finally have a good enough selection.

When it comes to Christmas cards, there is an endless variety to choose from: handmade, store bought or even electronic cards. Shutterfly is a one stop photo shop. They have a ton of photo ideas for all of your needs. I've gotten prints through Shutterfly before, and I was very happy with them. They also have fantastic gift ideas.

Who wouldn't love to receive this adorable mug with your little one's photos?



Crash would flip a lid if he receive this book as a gift.

While these are fantastic gift ideas, I'm in the market for cards, photo cards more specifically. Shutterfly has one of the largest selection I've seen. It's so hard to choose especially for someone like me. Eek.

I really like the fun colors in this one. You can never get enough snowflakes in my opinion.

I really like the color and layout of this card.


This one is super cute. I have a new found love for the color pink. The boys wouldn't be too happy with me though. :o)

I just may enlist the help of the kiddos to decide on the final product. Folks, there are over 800 styles!! Everyone is bound to find something they love.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Happy birthday, Crash!

:o( I can't believe it's been another year already. Where has the time gone? I will probably say this every year. It just hurts that he's growing up. He's my baby. Well, he was my baby. You can go here to see the post from last year. I don't have all the old photos loaded onto my new laptop yet. There are some older shots of him there in that post.

I seriously need to stop tearing up. It's so hard when your youngest and probably your last child turns another year older. The milestones are much more bitter sweet. In a year, his vocabulary has increased immensely. His personality is really blossoming. He thrives on the attention of anyone, but especially his brother and sister. I've never seen three kids who have such a strong bond. You can see the love. It's beautiful.

This was the year that Crash fell on the coffee table and killed his front two teeth. They didn't split but they did die. :o( This was the year that Crash REALLY enjoys playing outside. He hates to wear shoes, and often stubs his toes taking huge chunks out. He plays kick ball in the cul-de-sac with his brother and sister. When he sees a car, he is the first one to yell, "Car!" and jump back into the yard. Every single time, without fail. This was the year we realized he is afraid of nothing as he tries to scale across the railing over the entry or talks about the rock wall he wants to climb. This is the year we discovered he may be part monkey, as he loves to climb and jump of everything. Literally, everything. He can't go any where without jumping.

This was the year Crash started using the big boy potty. It broke my heart when he decided he was ready to stand up like a big boy to use the potty. Who is this little man?

This is the year he drove me nuts in class. He NEVER listened to me. He made several trips to the office. This is also the year I changed jobs and saw a huge turn around in his behavior. He was no longer the demon seed.

The terrible two's are gone and we are on to what I hope will be the terrific three's.






Friday, November 5, 2010

Stripped

Don't worry. I won't be going nude. Ever. You can all breathe a collective sigh of relief. After reading a couple of very inspiring blog posts, I decided to share a bit of my story. Please go here to read what moved me. It brought me to tears.

You see, my dear friends, I've been fighting. This battle has been going on for quite some time. Many points in my life, I have thought I may be the victor, only to find the opposite is true.

The war started in the early to mid 1990s, when I was in junior high. I had always been a "big" girl. I was a chunker. Jokes and comments were made. I took it in stride, but these destroyed me inside. I was tired of watching all the skinny girls, thinking their lives were some how magically better because they were thin. I was tired of being called Big Butt Bertha and Thunder Thighs. These are names that no person, no matter the age, should have to listen to. I was hurt. I was scarred. I'm still hurt. I'm still scarred. I had to do something to change my body. I had to make these people stop.

I started starving myself. I limited myself to no more than 600 calories a day. The reduced caloric intake and physical activity lead to a drop in 30 pounds. It happened pretty quickly too. People were no longer calling me fat or other fat names. People were complimenting me. They'd ask me how I lost the weight, and I'd say I was just watching what I eat. It was a high for me, their comments. For once, people noticed me. For once, people weren't making fun of me. My life must be perfect now, right?

Of course it wasn't perfect. I never told anyone what was going on. My parents surely had to have known, but said nothing to me. I decided to save myself after doing a report and presentation on anorexia and bulimia. I read the stories, and didn't want to be one of those girls. I had to stop. I managed to gain control. I started eating and kept exercising. I finally had energy. I felt alive.

Fast forward six years and one kid later, I was pregnant with Tater Tot. Before I had gotten pregnant, I was at my heaviest weight ever. It terrified me. What I did at this stage in my life disgusts me. I can't believe I would put my son in danger. I started binging and purging. I used the pregnancy as a cover up for the purging. It was just morning sickness. It lasted the entire pregnancy. I am so thankful that Tater Tot was perfectly healthy and normal weighing in at nearly 9 pounds. I was lucky.

The "morning sickness" secretly carried on well after I had Tater Tot. I was logging every bite I put into my mouth. Entries with a star next to them meant I had purged. I was no longer binging. I was actually eating very healthy and then purging. I dropped 80 pounds from my prepregnancy weight. I was the smallest I had been my adult life. I was over the moon. I was getting lots of compliments. People noticed me. I was beautiful for once.

The weight didn't stay off for long. Turns out, I had a thyroid problem which contributed to my rapid weight loss. The problem was corrected. The weight came back. Well, not all of the weight. I put 40 pounds back on. I thought I was ok with this fact. My husband loves me and says that I'm beautiful. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror or in a window, I wanted to cry. I couldn't take it any more. Something had to change. Why not try throwing up your food again genius? Problem is, you don't actually lose weight doing that. You end up putting some weight on or just maintaining.

After battling two different eating disorders over the course of 16 years, I had to right the ship. My husband was concerned for me. And I became concerned for my daughter. I would die if I found out she was battling these demons. I know there will come a point where I will have to tell her my story. I will cry. I will hang my head in shame as I do now. It's not something I am proud of. It is my story. I'm on to a new chapter, and I'm hoping this will be the best chapter. This will be the chapter where I finally win the war. This will be the chapter I come out on top.