Where We're At.

Things in our neck of the world have been pretty crazy. We have been in a state of adjustment here and it has been, in a word,  amazing. I struggle, sometimes, with what to say and how to say it on this blog and in this process because I'm torn. I want to share because we have so many people who have been praying for us. But how to share? If I talk about everything too positively, it feels like I'm sugar coating things and I may inadvertently give the impression that this is a walk in the park. If I focus on the hard parts, then I'm being negative.

I know that there are women out there who read my blog who have gone through or are going through a divorce and I want to be sensitive to that. I know when John and I were apart I would read stories of husbands or wives coming home and wonder what I did wrong that kept John from coming back. I don't ever want anyone to read this and think that there is anything better about me or my life than them or theirs. It's just not true. Conversely, I don't want anyone to get the impression that this is too hard to be worth it, or that reconciliation isn't a viable option. It's tough to find that balance since in the end, blog posts are simply a glimpse of a slice of life.

All that being said, things are pretty great here. The transition has gone so much more smoothly than I thought it would, and I know that is totally a God thing. We have been under plenty of stress in the past month but have handled it better than I could have imagined. We are seeing a great counselor who has been really helpful and just started going to a marriage seminar at church. John got thrown into the deep end with the kids when I was in the hospital with Coen and he did great. It's been amazing having help cooking and cleaning and kid wrangling.

I did not expect things to go this well. I thought it would be harder. Probably, at some point, it will be harder. Such is life. But I did shock myself one afternoon when I came home from an afternoon lending an ear to a new friend who was going through some tough things. I walked through the door, just gutted and sad from hearing about the situation she was in, and I walked up and I hugged John for a really long time and then I pulled back and looked at him and I said "Thank you for not coming home until you were ready."

Then we both laughed because it sounded so ridiculous.  I think he thought maybe I was drunk.

But I meant it. 

John had to hit rock bottom on his own terms, with me completely out of the equation, and decide what he wanted from his life on his own before rebuilding our life together would ever have worked. He had to want to be with us so badly that he had to work for it, not fall back into our lives because it was easy. We had to be what he longed for and missed, not his fallback plan.

And thank God, that happened. I never knew it would when I packed up the kids and moved to Indiana, but it was the absolute best thing we had every done. John has shared a lot with me about things that happened or things he went through after we left Florida that show that us leaving was a bigger wake up call than I could even have imagined. And my living in Indiana when John began to do the work in Florida to rebuild our relationship was a blessing in disguise. I can't tell you how many times I cursed being across the country from him those four months we were discussing reconciliation. I thought it would never work being so far away from one another.

But being so far away from each other for those months was the best thing that could have happened. We had lots of time to talk with no other expectations. We discussed what life would look like at length. We had about every conversation you could have on every topic we could think could ever be an issue. And interspersed throughout, we had visits. Three in all, two in Indiana and one in Florida, and we slowly stepped back into our life. Additionally, we didn't tell the kids anything at all until we were positive we were completely and utterly committed to making it work. No trying to make it work. No giving it a shot. Committed. Period.

And it's because of those four months and all the prep work we did that this transition has gone so well.

Well, that and God.

Well, that and God and the fact that we love each other quite a lot and we're both willing to do that work.

The first night of this seminar we are attending at church was awkward. We sat at our table with all the couples and the facilitator instructed us to introduce ourselves, tell how long we'd been married, and what we most love about our partner.

I won't lie. I balked. Did we really have to tell everyone, air our dirty laundry? Wouldn't it be easier to just gloss over everything?

But when has glossing over anything helped at all? And we weren't at a dinner party; we were at a marriage seminar, after all.

So I took a deep breath, and I looked at everyone, and I told them. "I'm Ellyn. This is John. We were married for six years, and then we got divorced. Now that's a funny story, believe me! And now we're back together."

And that's the beginning, not the end. If this were a movie, we'd be riding off into the sunset right now. Instead we're just starting out. Not from scratch, but starting out all the same. And instead of the fancy moving ending we'll have a full life. Screaming kids, disagreements, money problems. Cookouts with friends, yelling too loud at the kids' basketball games, date nights here and there. Someone to come home to.

No, not just someone. My someone.

Sounds pretty amazing to me.

I'm Back!

**Pictures are totally unrelated to my post and just snapshots of the kids hanging out over the past couple weeks**

So I imposed a week long blog break on myself to help me bite my tongue when I got a comment here and a few others elsewhere that made me want to curl up in the fetal position and cry and/or try to fix it and explain myself over and over. I really needed the time to be still and remember that defending myself isn't what's important.

The thing is, I can't please everyone and it's just not realistic to think that everyone is going to like me. I've done my best to be transparent on this blog while still respecting others people's privacy but it can be hard to do without leaving lots of things open to interpretation, and people like to interpret things in interesting and not so accurate ways, I guess.

So I'm not going to say as much as maybe I'd like, but here is the gist of it. I never delete comments unless they are beyond hateful and cruel. Even then I almost always leave them up. I almost always answer questions that are asked of me in comments or by email. If you have questions for me, ask away! If I was a reader who hadn't been around for long I'd have a whole lot of questions, myself. My life has been kind of crazy the past couple of years. I would much rather you ask a question so that I can answer it rather than you jump to a conclusion that might be incorrect. If you do have questions, though, I'll tell you this...I'm a lot more likely to answer you if you don't call me a whore. Even John cracked up laughing when we discussed what people had said. I've slept with all of one person in the past eight years, and that's my now-ex-husband.

John and I don't and probably won't see eye to eye for a long time. But we have quite a history together and whoever is commenting here in his defense...it's not necessary. I have not and will not ever try to screw John over.  John specifically asked me to mention here that in the future, he would prefer that anyone who feels the need to attack me in his defense email him directly instead of posting here. If you need his email address, let me know and I will happily pass it on. John and I are committed to co-parenting our children with as much grace as possible, and while he will miss the kids immensely and is understandably sad, he is fully on board with our move. This is a whole new world for all of us...neither of us ever planned on being divorced and there is a huge learning curve that comes along with it. We'd appreciate respect from those who disagree with our choices, both mine and his. We're trying to respect each other, and if we can manage that task, I hope strangers and acquaintances can as well.

In other news, we're moving in five days. The kids are both insanely excited and sad to leave their friends. But with a fun road trip coming up, excitement is starting to win out for both Ava and Jace. I am pulling my hair out trying to find a good home for my sweet dog Ally, who has been a member of our family for nearly nine years. If you know of anyone local to me looking for a sweet older dog who likes kids, email me!

We are trying hard to make the rounds and do everything one last time. We're hitting the zoo tomorrow and went to Busch Gardens last weekend. We had one last breakfast at our favorite small town eatery this morning, and we're checking off the items on our must-do-before-we-leave list. Of course this means that lots of the necessary but not so fun stuff like finishing packing and getting the car serviced is getting pushed to the last minute. I've always been a procrastinator. I did reserve our hotel for our first night on the road in Georgia, so I feel slightly more prepared.

Oh! And I got a letter from my college saying I made their President's Honor List, which made me very excited because I'm a huge dork. Now my Grandma can finally brag about me to her friends like she does my younger cousins. I'm going to get her a bumper sticker that says "My grandaughter has is and honor student and has a bunch of kids." Or something like that but catchier. I'll have to think about it.

So anyway, I apologize for the hiatus, but it was necessary for me to get my head on straight and separate my insanely emotional pregnant hormones from my higher logic. Thanks for bearing with me.

Ch-Ch-Changes

In the past several years, I've learned that God has a pretty huge sense of humor. Or irony. Or something. When I put years into working my way up in a competitive company and ended up one of the youngest managers they'd had, giving up a semester abroad studying in Paris along the way so I could continue to advance, I certainly never thought just a couple years later I would be married and giving up the job I had thrown blood, sweat, and tears at to be a stay at home mom. Of course, these years with my kids have ended up being much more valuable than any job could be.

When I got married, I thought it would be forever. It wasn't always roses, but I knew I was in it for the long haul and I'd never walk away. I knew that as much of a slog as marriage could be, being on your own, dealing with all the repercussions of divorce, was exponentially worse. I depended on my husband for many little day to day things and often thought I couldn't get by without him. If you had told me that I'd end up living my worst nightmare, I would never have believed you. In the end, while aspects of this life have definitely been nightmarish, my life as a whole is very blessed.

God has taken so many events in my life that I considered negative or that haven't been what I would have chosen and turned them into life changing, character building experiences. Without them I wouldn't be me. So I have the utmost hope that the same things are going to come out of the latest change that is in store for us.

When I moved to Florida seven years ago, I just knew it was for good. I love it here. I love my church, my children's school, Seth's services, and the support system we have here. We are happy here, even in the midst of the things that have happened. So when it started to become clear that it may be time for us to leave, I fought it tooth and nail. I argued with God, convinced that leaving here just couldn't be His will for my family, because it wasn't my will for us.

I've never been someone that God talks to audibly. I end up wondering if I am doing my will or his regularly, because I am the type that wants obvious signs telling me what to do. A road map, if you will. And over the past few months I've spend a lot of time praying that I would get that map, that I would know what the right choices were for the kids and me as we add another baby to our family. And over time, arrows started to appear. To my regret, they weren't pointing in the direction I had been praying for. I had to adjust my own wishes and expectations once again.

But I think and I hope I am following the landmarks God has left for me when I share that the kids and I will be moving back to my home state of Indiana next month. Which is just hilarious, because you will never meet a person who hates the cold more than me. But for many reasons, it's the place we need to be right now, and for me, the proof is in God's providence in the move. Many things have just fallen into place or happened to show me that unfortunately, leaving is the right thing for right now. It's incredibly bittersweet and I have difficulty putting it all into words, but this isn't a decision made in haste or without  the blessing of anyone who is a part of our family or close circle of friends or the kids' father.

I could write a book about how I'm feeling about the move, and the contents would change hourly. There are things I am incredibly excited about and things I am dreading, things and people I will miss more than anything and things and people up north that I have been sorely missing for years. The older kids are understandably sad but, as Ava's best friend Ella says, looking on the bright side, and we're all really excited about reconnecting with family and friends we've only seen in short bursts for years. There are lots of things to look forward to, but at the same time, lots of tears have been cried over what and who we'll be leaving behind.

I wish I could sound more happy, because I know there are people waiting for us there who are overjoyed. And I think I will be, eventually. It's just I have a problem with change. Always have. And right now, I'm in a bit of mourning over that life we've had here, looking back at the people who have made this place a home and owning up to how much I'll miss them, and after I'm done moping for just a moment longer I'll be able to look forward and be excited about the opportunities that are waiting for us as we make a fresh start. We're very blessed...we have family who has both the space and the desire for us to hang out with them during my pregnancy and while we find a place of our own, and there is already a school and a church and a youth group we're blessed to have gotten to know over the years and who have rallied around Seth since his birth.

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want this to be a temporary move...that best case scenario I'd like to finish school and be able to get a job and preferably move right back here and take our lives back. And maybe that will come true. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that God doesn't usually give us all the answers at the beginning, or even the middle, of the book. I'm just doing my best to follow God's will for me and for Ava, Jace, Seth, Evany, and whoever this baby turns out to be.

And that's why come next month the five of us plus my best friend Mara and her daughter, Ava's best friend Ella, will be piling into what I know will be an insanely packed van, following our own road map,  and heading off for a huge multi-day  adventure through Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, and finally, Indiana.

And by then, I'll be looking forward, not back, and we'll be singing all the way.

Assorted

Don't you love the new layout? Mandy did a great job. We (read: She, with convoluted feedback from yours truly) had been working on the header for a little while, but then she came out with a new kit and I fell in love with it. So I asked her to blogjack me. Then I got really lucky because she got snowed into her house and had nothing to do but work on my blog! So we skyped for way too long last night talking about ice and dogs and how I was seeing colors that weren't actually there until I declared myself cut off from blog design and told her I trusted her judgment. I think she did good! It's nice and cheery and I need some of that. I love the rotating pictures in the header. Thor is Mandy's nickname for the new baby, and I told her if it turns out to be a girl she might have some identity issues being called that. We'll see.

Speaking of gender, though, it's been nearly a week and the test still says Boy. In an entertaining turn of events, a really sweet rep from the another gender test company contacted me the other day and offered to send me one of their tests to review! So I will be taking the Intelligender test after all. We'll see if it says boy as well or if the jury is divided. I'm so excited. I love tests.

In other news, Evany said her first word tonight! It wasn't Mama, however. It was cracker. I told you she likes to eat! But it's the first thing she's said meaningfully and contextually, and my friends Mara and Laura both heart her say it multiple times, so I'll take it. She's going to have more words than her brother before he knows it. Hear that, Seth? Your sisters giving you a run for your money. You better get your big boy pants on and start talking! Maybe some healthy competition is what he needed.

Seth had a stellar day today. He saw a helicopter and yelled "Helicopter!" at it several times, he had a mapping (Cochlear Implant programming) and was actually friendly, cooperative, and communicative with his Audiologists, and he even deigned to show off his conditioned responses for them. Today he got to play "Don't Break The Ice" and knock a block out of the game whenever he heard a beep. He liked it.

Ava is recovering from her bout with strep throat and was finally officially not contagious today, which was lucky because if she had to miss Awana she might have literally died. Plus they all got new toothbrushes out of the whole strep deal, so that apparently made it all worthwhile.

Okay, off to bed. I hope everyone is safe and warm and preferably not snowed or iced in. But I'm guessing some of you are. Sorry about that.

Fool Me Once

Hello.

I'm alive. I promise. I appreciate every comment and email asking me what the heck I was thinking dropping off the face of the earth like that.

This blog post has been in progress in my head for something like a month, but I haven't yet typed it out. We'll see how it goes.

You see, I've always been a bit of an idiot about my (now ex) husband. I halve always seen him as what he could be instead of what he is, and as such, I may have been a bit starry eyed, even after our divorce. I have been a little too willing to overlook things, a little too bent on reconciliation with a man who made it very clear when I was three months pregnant with his daughter that he was heading for what were greener pastures in his eyes.

I never gave up hope, though, that he would come back. And so when there were many signs pointing to just that over the summer and fall, I began to be optimistic that our story could have a happy ending. I won't go into too many details, but suffice it to say that I wasn't imagining things. There seemed to be so much...potential. I began to see glimpses of the man I married.

To complicate things even more, I found out I was pregnant in late November. I know this fact alone will disappoint many people. The audacity to get pregnant when so many know we struggle financially. The sin of sex outside of marriage. I can't speak for John, but for myself, I can say that signing divorce papers never made me feel one bit less married. The pregnancy was unplanned, and while I would not have chosen this timing, I told myself after my son died that I would never be anything but happy about the chance to raise another child.

John didn't share my feelings. He does not support this pregnancy or the fact that I am choosing to carry this baby to term (or, knowing me, as close to term as possible). In fact, soon after I found out I was pregnant he realized that while he did want to be married again, it wasn't to me. He is now engaged to the same person he left me for. She doesn't mind the pregnancy, apparently. Things have been very, very difficult and ugly between us.

So here we are. I am alone all over again, this time with four children and one on the way instead of three. Many people will disapprove of my actions or my choices, or question why I'd ever give someone who left me once another chance. The old saying "Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me." It runs through my head a lot. I certainly allowed myself to be fooled.

But I wouldn't take it back. I married him for a reason, and even if the only reason is these children, then it will have been worth it. The silver lining here is that I am not new to this. As sad as it sounds, this isn't my first rodeo. I have gone through pregnancies alone before. Evany has been nothing but a blessing to our family and I know this baby will be no different.

Of course I can't lie and say part of me is afraid I'm going to be alone forever while he goes off and gets married and lives happily ever after. That would be silly. Sometimes I want to scream and beat the walls and cry about how he's found someone and I'm alone. It sucks, and it doesn't seem fair.

But the thing is, God never promised us fair. He never promised us easy. But he did promise that He has a plan, and it's for good. I have to believe that somehow, some way, he will bring beauty out of this, as well.

I understand if you are disappointed in me. I understand if you are shaking your head about the choices I have made. I understand that by putting my life out there on a public blog I invite people to weigh in on that life, whether it be good or bad. I don't expect understanding, but respect would be greatly appreciated. I have spent six weeks going through all of this in my head, and believe me, I am my own worst critic. I have picked apart and condemned my actions over and over, so I don't need anyone to do it for me. What's done is done, and now I have to make the best of it and move on.

Thanks for reading, and thanks for not giving up on us.

Someone forgot to put the "merry" in Christmas.

Our Christmas was...well, the word that keeps coming to mind is hellish. It was literally the worst Christmas I have ever gone through in my life. It makes last Christmas look bright and cheery. It was an incredibly bad day, and not just emotionally.

Luckily, somehow the kids didn't seem to notice and came away with the impression that it was a good day, which is really all that matters. I'm very thankful everything that happened didn't affect them the same way it affected me. They got some really fun gifts and have been busily playing with them ever since.

I'm not trying to be vague, believe me. I'm just not ready to write about it all yet.  I'm in the mood to hide under a rock right now and not deal with any of this life I've been left to pick up the pieces of. I'll be fine, though.

To give you an idea of what the day was like...get this. To salvage the day, I took the kids to the movies. It was  packed theater and a kids movie (Tangled), plus it was Christmas Day so I figured people would be nice. Turns out the one place Seth DOES want to talk is in the theater, and he talked to the movie a lot. He was never screaming, and he was mostly just excited. Since the theater was so full, it wasn't particularly quiet anyway, so I never took him out. After the movie, a group of guys (with no kids with them, strangely enough), came up and read me the riot act about how I was a terrible mother because I didn't discipline my child and remove him and that I ruined the movie for everyone else.

After that day I'd already had I had no come back except for tearing up and feeling like, well, the terrible mom they were saying I was. Turns out if enough people call you that you start to believe it. We walked out of the theater and another mom tapped me on the shoulder to tell me that she didn't think Seth had been badly behaved, and that he had just been acting like a two year old and hadn't ruined the movie for anyone. It was super nice of her to say that, because by then I was questioning whether I had been an idiot for thinking I had the right to take my child to a children's movie, pay for their ticket, and watch that movie. How is a two year old calling out any different than all the twi-hards or Harry Potter fanatics that cat call all through the movie? Annoying, yes, but something you deal with when you go watch a movie in public, right? Especially a movie geared toward engaging kids in the story.

Ugh. It was just a day when everything that could go wrong did. Anyway, the kids and I are going on a little getaway this week and hopefully I will be feeling better soon. I don't know how much I'll be blogging, and I may take a short break to get my thoughts in order.

I hope you all had a great Christmas and have a Happy New Year!

Personality

Ava and Jace are off at a sleepover tonight, so the babies and I stayed up late and hung out. Actually, Seth and I hung out on the couch while Evany crawled like a maniac all over the house and yelled at us every so often. It was relaxing.

The personality difference in these kids just cracks me up. For his entire life, Seth has been attached, quiet, thoughtful, and very cuddly. He spends at least half of his day on my lap. Literally. The other half he spends sitting or playing right next to me. Evany, in contrast, is all over the place. She's a busy bee, and I can't get her to cuddle with me at all unless she's exhausted or sick. She'll let me carry her from place to place happily, but she never hugs or lays her head on my shoulder...she's always checking out what's going on...clapping, waving, making friends.

Their physically identical, but their personalities? Night and day. It's so strange that you can have these kids in the same family and they can all be so unique. It's so much fun watching them grow.

This Christmas has been a lot easier than last year to get through. Apparently you really can get used to anything. In fact, today was the first time it even really hit me that no one is out shopping for a special gift for me or thinking of me romantically this Christmas. It makes me sad...don't get me wrong. I don't want to be alone forever. But compared to last year, it's easier. It is what it is. I'm on my own, and it's partly due to choices I've made. All I can do is make the kids' Christmas the best it can be. It really doesn't matter what it's like for me, and anyway, it makes me happy to see them happy.

We're getting there. Or trying to. Some days are harder than others, sometimes I'm fine all day and then sad because of the littlest thing. All I can do is try and process it all as it comes and remember that no one is supposed to get over life changes like this overnight, or even in a year or longer. Just like dealing with Eli's death, the little things about my family being broken hit at strange times, even when I think I'm fine. I didn't just lose my husband last year, I lost the person who was supposed to stand by me no matter what. Sometimes that hits harder than others.

Thanks for letting me share my thoughts with all of you and never making me feel bad. It means more than you know.

Bugs, Reading, and a high school self portrait. A mash up.

My son amazes me. He just came trotting out of his bedroom, balancing a smashed cockroach atop the book he totally murdered it with. The kid never even called out or said there was a bug...he just took care of business, then came and tossed it outside.

That's what I'm talking about. Amazing child.

I almost took a picture to post here, but them I realized that as proud as I was, it was still pretty gross, so I spared you all. 

Ava has a book report due this week so she came to Panera with me tonight while the kids' dad visited. She was pretty darn adorable. She sat and read while I did some prep for finals and she was just so serious about it all...she's growing up so fast. 

I have to say I have been really impressed with her reading. She just turned six in Ausgust and while I'm sure there are lots of kids out there who read more fluently than she does, she has really been imporoving lately. She asked me to video her "for the dot com.", which is what she calls the blog, which cracks me up every single time. So here is a video of Ava reading her book report book. The end is the most precious part...she looks so proud of herself!

I would like to start a grassroots movement to get schools to cancel all classes between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Just let the kids out the day before Thanksgiving, and we'll see you after New Year's. I am having the hardest time focusing on the kids' work, not to mention my own, in this weird two and a half week period between the holidays! Anyone else?

Last night I was chatting on facebook with an old friend from high school, and he asked me how I've managed to get prettier since high school. 

Yeah. 

After I laughed out loud (literally) for about fifteen minutes, I told him that he must be looking at really flattering pictures, and it didn't help that I was painfully gangly and awkward in high school, as he should know. Therefore, it really wouldn't take much to look better these days. He didn't buy my explanation and said I had memory problems, which kind of cracked me up. It's funny how you can remember things so vividly and yet so differently from someone else. My best friend from high school and I have always had very different ideas of how high school went down, and I always assumed I was right and she was crazy, but apparently I may have to consider that my own experiences may have been colored a bit by how awkward I felt on the inside, whether or not I looked that way on the outside. 

However, I am still maintaining I did look painfully gangly. And awkward. And that's just how it is.

I mean, just look.

I was hanging onto Lindsey just to keep from falling over. I couldn't even stand on my own feet. My limbs were not under control in any way. But I did know how to rock a knee sock even then. And let's not even get into the fact that our after prom festivities consisted of donning said knee socks and eating lots of snacks. And considering then shooting down playing spin the bottle. Because it was just a little too out there for us.

If you couldn't tell, my friends and I were the rule breakers in high school. We left no movie unwatched, no trivia game unplayed, no comment unanalyzed. You guys have seen the JELKS notebook. We were ridiculous.

We were incredible dorks. And we liked it that way.

Aww, high school.

What are you defined by?

As I drove home from work last night, I was thinking. I do some of my best thinking in the car, actually, although almost none of it makes it anywhere useful because I have a raging case of forgetfulness going on.

I can't remember what got me going on this particular train of thought, but somehow I found myself considering what people are defined by, what makes them "them", the first thing others think of when they hear a person's name.

It's easy to be defined by the things that happen to you in life. In fact, when I thought of what defined me, the first three things that crossed my mind were Eli's death, Seth's deafness, and my divorce. Those are the big things that have happened to me, the things that have shaped who I am.

They're also the negative things in my life. Who wants to be defined by negatives? I don't, but for some reason, the bad things seem so much bigger than the good sometimes. I don't want someone to see me and think of how sorry they are for me, or how my life is a big teachable moment of what not to do.

My son died. It sucked. I allowed it to define me for too long, allowed it to become the party line in every argument with my husband when we were married. Then Seth was born and his deafness became the center of our lives, the fight to get him cochlear implants. Everything else fell by the wayside. I felt like if I could help him hear, I wouldn't be failing him like I had failed Eli. Of course I couldn't have saved Eli, but as a mother, I felt like I could have and should have. Of course I couldn't have known about or prevented Seth's deafness, but it felt like I should have. I became single minded in my pursuit of his treatment, perhaps partly in response to the guilt I still felt over Eli's death.

It wasn't until Evany was born almost a year ago that I really understood that I had no control over Eli's death. I was in the hospital, two feet away from my doctor, when she began having the same issues Eli had, and getting her out in time was a miracle. I still remember nurses rushing down the hall to the operating room, pushing me on my hospital bed. If we came so close to losing her, when I was right there, with doctors and nurses all around, there really was nothing I could have done to save Eli. He could have even if I had been in the hospital already.

Learning that was very cathartic for me. Finally, I realized it wasn't my fault, and I was able to let go of guilt I'd been feeling for two and a half years. Being able to let go of that has let me come to terms with his death in a much healthier way.

Now Seth has been hearing for over eighteen months. He hears well. He is sweet and amazing and lovable, and I don't know what I would do without him. He is also incredibly stubborn and isn't where he should be with his language. I've had to learn to let go of that, too, to adjust my expectations of him and know that as long as I'm doing everything I can to help him along, the rest is up to Seth. He is deaf, but that cannot define him. He is a little boy who is amazingly expressive, has a great sense of humor, loves every sport we've taught him yet, and happens to wear cochlear implants. He, like any other little boy, it seems, will do it all when he is ready.

I guess the point is, while we can't exactly choose what people think of as defining us, we can choose how we feel about our defining moments. I don't want to be Ellyn, that poor girl whose husband left after her baby died and another one was born deaf. I don't want to be that poor single mother dragging all her kids around. I want to be defined as someone who is raising her children to love God and be kind to others, who has chosen to learn from past experiences instead of being beaten down by them, and who can tell a good joke and cook some mean spaghetti.

I know by altering my attitude, by making my life about what I'm doing instead of what I've done, I can affect other's perceptions of what my life looks like. Because to tell you the truth, it's a good life. I have five kids, four of whom I have the privilege of raising. They are loving and kind, and pretty darn good looking if I do say so myself. I was married to a man who, for the majority of our life together, was good to me, who was a great father. Even on his worst day, he was great genetic material for our kids. I am most blessed that we have worked through many of our issues, that there is no longer any animosity between us (usually...I'm not perfect!), and that I don't have to worry about whether or not I have done everything I could to fix my marriage. I'm going to school to do something I really believe I will love. We have a roof over our heads, a car to drive, and netflix. Seriously, that's pretty good.

No, we don't have a lot of money. But I'm learning that scaling back in certain ways is actually helping teach my children to be more grateful for what they do have, and the fact is, they are still ridiculously blessed. Watching less television has made more time for reading. Scaling back on toys means more pretend play. We're just like any other family, except the bad stuff is right out in the open for us, instead of hidden as it is in lots of other families. And truthfully? I kind of like it that way.

So what are you defined by?

In which I blather on

Today has been an emotional day. As well as things are going overall in my life, there are still days that are just a bit much. I can't even put my finger on it exactly, except that Ava heard the song I posted on here the other night (Matthew West's Two Houses) on the radio and now she's singing it every waking moment. She doesn't completely get what it's about but it makes me so sad to think about it I could just cry. So I did.

There are so many things I leave out of my blog...which is ironic, because I've gotten emails tearing me down for something or other that end in "I'm sure this will end up on your blog, since everything else does." In fact, I leave a lot out, because there are people who are not exactly supportive of my life who read here. I've written venting posts that I've then deleted because I knew it wasn't worth the drama, and I've even stopped myself from posting positive news or stories for the same reasons. It's tiring. It makes me sad, because as much as I am trying to take control of my life, I've ended up with no control over my own blog.  I love posting about the kids and updating you all on them, but I miss posting about my thoughts and feelings, too. I hate that in a bid to pull my family's life together in the long run, I've had to sacrifice something that means a lot to me.

Today I went to lunch with a friend who I've known for years. We were pregnant together when I was carrying Eli, and she has a two little girls and a boy, one of whom is named Ava, too (one of the girls, that is!). Her oldest daughter and Ava went to pre-school together, and when Eli died, even though she was going through an incredibly hard time and it must have been very difficult to her as she neared the end of her pregnancy with her son, she was front and center at my baby's memorial service.

I won't go into detail because it's not my story, but my friend went through a situation very similar to mine, down to the fact that she went through a pregnancy with multiple kids alone. She was the very first person I'd personally watched go through the break up of a marriage in the face of multiple kids and pregnancy, and it shocked me to my core. I remember feeling so sad about it all. Over the years, we've kept in touch, and when the same situation happened to me, she often reached out to me to commiserate and to share with me what she'd gone through. And while I'm sorry that we have such a terrible thing in common, I do have to admit that it's amazing to be able to talk to someone who has been in precisely my shoes. There is no fear of judgement, and she always understands where I'm coming from, even when others who haven't been in my position are shaking their heads at me in puzzlement.

Finally, today we were able to meet up in person and have lunch. Seth was cranky and napless, and Evany was loud and silly, and it was anything but a relaxing experience. But it was so good to see her, and so nice to talk to her, and she was so gracious and just let me talk her ear off. She never once looked at me like I was crazy. The coolest, most unexpected thing about it all, though, is that she and her ex-husband have just hit the one year mark of their reconciliation. Hearing her talk about the hard work involved and what it's like to be a complete family again was so fulfilling to hear...I have spent so many years praying for her and the family, and to hear that they have put the work in and started to rebuild their family is just an amazing answer to that prayer. Often when someone separates or divorces no one knows quite what to pray. Do you pray for the family? For the one who left? For the one who is left behind? In the end, I prayed for them all, that God's will would be done, and seeing that come to fruition in a way I truthfully never imagined it would makes me so happy for them.

It's so easy to pass judgement on other people's actions, and I'm a pretty terrible offender when it comes to that, as well. But in the end, all we can do is seek God's will in our lives. Sometimes he leads us places we thought we'd never go, and sometimes he tells us to humble ourselves and turn right back around. But unless we're listening and surrendering to Him, or if we're too busy applying our limited understanding to a situation, or judging without seeking His will, we'll probably miss His signals.

I've gone through the past year and a half begging God to tell me something, lead me somewhere, give me clarity. I never got it, no matter how much I searched or pushed or screamed or yelled. In the face of every action, I received silence. No affirmation or rebuke, just silence. I have been floundering in a sea of unrest, unsure of what direction to move in.

Until recently, when I tried something new. Instead of trying to find the answer, I stopped looking. Instead of testing out new directions, I was still.

Psalm 46:10 was there all along, in front of my face, like so many other verses.

"Be still, and know that I am God."

That simple? Really?

I figured it couldn't hurt.

So I'm being still. I'm not looking for a change, or searching for direction. I'm being still, and I'm waiting.  God has plans for my family, and I don't know what they are. But I do know that ever since I stopped looking, I have finally felt the peace and clarity I've been searching for. I just had to stop looking for it.

There's a lesson for the control freak in me, huh?

So I'm here, being still. And taking care of my kids. And studying. And waiting. And sometime, someday, God will lead me to do something besides wait. I just know it.

Inarticulate

So, so worth a listen. Seriously. I don't really have any words beyond that tonight. But this song says lots of things in a pretty great way.

On becoming a hermit

When my ex husband left, it was the first time I'd lived alone.

Ever.

Not counting, of course, my kids. Still, it was the first time I was the only adult in the house. When I moved out after high school I had roommates. Then I got married. So last summer was the very first time I had ever lived alone.

I thought I might die.

You see, I was the kind of kid who freaked out when she was home alone, convinced that every noise was an intruder who was going to murder me before I could call 911. Once, I heard strange sounds and shimmied out the bathroom window and ran to the neighbors screaming there was a robber in the house.

It turned out the menacing sounds were coming from the litter of kittens we had in the house horsing around.

Oops.

And fake intruders weren't my only fear...I have been known to barricade myself into a room upon seeing a cockroach. It was on the ceiling of my bedroom, and I slept outside in our Florida room, a towel shoved under the door to keep that pesky roach from coming after me.

Considering I was basically on a screened in porch, though, it wasn't my smartest move. There were undoubtedly many more bugs within reach there than the one hanging out in my bedroom.

I'm not always rational when frightened, if you couldn't tell.

The point of sharing those embarrassing anecdotes is just to illustrate why I thought I might die when my ex-husband left. In fact, he was convinced I would immediately ask my mom to move in and take care of me.

But there was no way I was going to admit defeat. I was going to survive being left if it killed me. It helped that most of the time, I was too exhausted to be scared, what with being pregnant and all. Too shell shocked to go out and socialize anywhere, especially if there were couples there. Like a phantom leg, my very alone-ness seemed glaringly obvious.

I should probably state that when my ex left, it wasn't just the first time I'd lived alone...it was, basically, the first time I'd been alone, as in without a significant other, since early in high school. I was a serial monogamist, always dating someone, then breaking up with them (or being broken up with) to date someone else. I always had a boyfriend, and then I had a husband. I had no idea how to function as Ellyn, sans sig fig, as we called them back in the day (stands for Significant Figure, for those of you less dorky than me).

So I was battling a double whammy. Alone at home, with no man to boot. A bunch of kids running around, and then, my dog died!

I always wanted a theme song, but I never thought it would be country.

Somehow, though, the months have flown by, and now I have gone over a year on my own in multiple senses of the word.

And in a turn I never would have imagined in a hundred years, what with me being very social and chatty, I have become a hermit.

Now there's a shocker.

For a while, being stuck at home was an imposition and I longed to go out and be around other grown ups. Before, I longed for a guy to share my life with, someone to marry and resume all the great parts about marriage with. Nights watching television and cuddling, dinners together, all that couple stuff. I made time to date, always thinking the next guy I went out with would be the one.

But somehow in the last few months, things have changed. What was an imposition is now a refuge. I love my alone time after the kids are in bed, even when it is spent studying. While I have had some great dates, something always stops me from letting them go beyond that. I am loath to give up the remote now that I have learned what it is like to control it. I may have caught myself, after a recent date, telling my friends that truthfully, I would have rather taken a nap. That's my new litmus test for whether it's worth going to all the effort it takes to go out on a date...is he interesting enough to forego a nap? That's the question. Usually, the answer is no.

So, I'm a twenty eight year old hermit who may never meet anyone because I prefer naps and reading to leaving the house, because I like having the option to watch questionable reality television without remorse and I really, really enjoy finishing the ice cream without feeling bad about it. I like living alone.

Which is something I never, ever thought I'd say.

In fact, I'm a little disappointed in myself. I thought I'd be perfect prospect for remarriage. I have always felt reasonably sure I would end up married again and the biggest worry I would have was whether to change my name to be different than that of my children. But the longer I'm on my own, the more set in my ways I get. I never understood how that happened to people before, but then again, I'd never had the luxury of letting my ways get set.

All of this is to say that I think I may have to get some cats, because I'm reasonably sure I'm going to end up a spinster, a crazy old cat lady.

I can't decide if this is a pro or a con.

Interrupting study time to ramble

I just wanted to share Bella with you all. I mentioned some time ago that I was following the Ringgold's blog, and their sweet baby girl passed away yesterday. My heart has literally been breaking for them today and I can't stop thinking of Bella and her family. There isn't anything worse out there than losing a child, and I cannot commend this family enough for the classy way they have handled every second of their heart wrenching journey. Please visit and let them know you're thinking of her, too.

________________________

I'm at Panera studying right now.

Well, obviously not right now. Right now, I'm blogging. Because my head was about to explode with midterm stress, and I kept reading the same paragraph over and over. I couldn't resist the temptation to check in and write to you all, my awesome internet friends.

Thus far, I am pulling A's in all four of my classes. I am shocked and thrilled, especially since the workload for these classes is exponentially higher than I expected it to be. Either I am less intelligent this time around or college has changed, because I never remember needing to work this hard.

To give you all an idea of my schedule, this semester I am knocking out prerequisites that are required for the nursing program. I am basically writing a multiple page paper each week for three classes, doing homework for the other, and then taking a test for each class every week that covers two chapters from the books for the classes. Plus participating in discussions online and other shorter assignments each week.

And this week is midterms. I'm only really worried about one class that has a proctored midterm without notes. That's going to be interesting. My memorization skills are lacking these days. But overall, I am loving this, even though it might kill me. Every so often Ava will ask me if I'm a nurse yet, and then look unbearably disappointed when I tell her no. She's all about instant gratification, that girl.

In other news, I was out of a job for a couple of weeks while the restaurant I work at renovated. Thankfully they just reopened and I am back at work just in time to stress out about having to dress up for Halloween there. Eek! I need suggestions, please! I haven't dressed up for Halloween in ten years. I want to look cute but not trashy. Every costume I've looked at is slutterific. Crazy.

Also, Mandy is coming Saturday! I'm so excited. Hopefully she won't regret coming to see me when she sees how insane my life is and how I never have a chance to clean. I haven't gotten to see her since last October, so I am stoked! People reading our tweets to each other probably think we're in love. Which I am, a little, in a platonic, snarky, wonderful way. I have exciting plans to drag her along to every excruciatingly-boring-for-childless-people event I can find. It'll be like take your friend to work day. She's going to have to shadow me at work, at church, on school field trips, and I am reportedly handing my children over to her so she can teach them about the birds and the bees at homeschool. That's a good plan, right? Sheltered Schmeltered.

Point is, I can't wait to hang out and watch Dr. Horrible and How I Met Your Mother and drive her crazy with nitpicky blog design questions. I am notorious for telling her a general idea and saying "Run with it!" then totally micromanaging her even though I said I wouldn't. It's fun. We'll hit up the beach and have a great time. Eating cookie dough. All day long. When my friends come for vacation I always get really excited thinking I'm getting a vacation, too. It's depressing when I remember that I still have all my usual duties. Not fair!

 Alright, I've used up my allotted procrastination time. Back to the salt mines.

Ava-isms and my dead bunny rabbit

So Ava got a diary for her birthday from a good friend of ours. As soon as she opened it, she immediately pounced on the book and unlocked it, then grabbed a pencil and went to town.

I had no idea she was in need of a diary....or that she even had private thoughts in her head that were awaiting release in an appropriately bound diary. With a lock. Secret thoughts! Secret from her mother! I freaked a little, but then she offered me her extra key for safekeeping, which must mean she trusts me, right?

Anyway, she scurried off and appeared again only after I called her three times for dinner, and after she ate it was back to the salt mines for her, writing writing writing. Just before bed, she brought me her diary and asked if I wanted to look at it. Which...of course! I was dying to see what all these repressed thoughts and ideas looked like on the page. I also wanted to get an idea of what her therapy was going to cost down the line. So I said yes. Calmly, of course, so that I wouldn't freak her out before she let me read the goods. Also, she gave me permission to share it with you all. Score!

Something about seeing her name in print in her very first diary made me feel about seventy years old, and I cannot believe my baby girl is old enough to be writing about boys in her diary. Okay, maybe I'm projecting. It was me that always wrote about boys in my diary. When I was seven I was head over heels in love with a boy named Drew. I finally got up the courage to invite him over to my house to show him my pet bunny rabbit Thumper. I knew it was going to be a turning point in our bourgeoning relationship, but when we got out to the garage, the rabbit was dead in it's cage. It kind of threw a wrench into everything, and talk about an awkward moment! I mean, who is going to ask someone out over a rabbit corpse? Not Drew, that's for sure. I totally blame Thumper's early demise for the fact that Pedro, a boy who was completely obsessed with GI JOES and who, for many years, I was convinced actually got to America in a rowboat, was my first boyfriend instead of Drew, my true love. I was left to relate it all to the diary, and let me tell you, that was a whopper of an entry.

I digress with many commas. Point is, I was both anxious and slightly scared to see what she'd been writing about so studiously. So I turned the page, and saw this:

Is this not the sweetest kid you've ever met? Her first diary entry all about people she loves. And afterward, she felt terrible because she kept thinking of more people she loved but ran out of room, so she wrote "I love everything!" at the bottom. She cannot stand hurting anyone's feelings. 

And the next page:

Her love is strong, y'all. And the reason I can't seem to stop laughing every time I look at that page of her diary? I had to ask her to add an "s" in a very strategic location of the word she undoubtedly meant to be "horses" before it was fit for blog consumption.

Kids crack me up. Ava at six is kind of awesome, too. My love is strong for that one.

Hooray!

So I wasn't able to make our usual visit home this summer, and I've been bummed. It's the first time since the kids were born I haven't made at least one trip home every year. But it just didn't work out this year. (If you find any money trees, let me know!)

The upside to living in Florida (you know, in addition to the sun, beaches, and lack of snow) is that people actually want to visit you! That never happened in Indiana, let me tell you.

So when my dear, beautiful, lovely, soulless, funny, sarcastic, soulmate-esque friend Mandy emailed her airline itinerary the other day confirming the visit she'll be making to little old me in October...

Well, elated would be a good word. 

She visited last year just about a month before Vivi made her surprise appearance and we spent an amazing day at Disney with all the kids. She even pretended to like them. I can't wait to see her in a couple of months, when I won't look all swollen and pregnant. You're lucky this is the only picture I can find of Mandy and I from last year or I would not be posting this super unflattering pose of yours truly with questionable bangs. Granted, I looked for about 3.5 seconds because I'm lazy. 

Anyway, I can't wait. I can't wait! I can picture it now. After the kids go to bed, Mandy and I will grab our respective laptops and fire up Skype and chat with the same girls we chat with when we're separated by several states, just like we always do. Because we're both big nerds. 

It's going to rock!

What speaks to you?

I have a confession to make.

I don't read a lot of blogs.

I know, I know. It's horrible. I try to, and there are so many I want to be reading, mostly belonging to readers of this blog who go way back, and new readers I want to learn about. But there are so many hours in a day, and I don't get many for blog hopping. I want to, though, and I love checking in on all the blogs I read. I need to do a better job commenting. Usually I read on the fly on my phone and am off to tend to a kid before I get to say anything. Because it's so tough for me to keep up, all of you who take the time to read here get my never ending gratitude. For reals.

 Every once in a while, though, I'll find a blog that calls to me, that I must read right away in the evenings when I get on the computer (about the only time I open the computer lately is after the kids are in bed).

It's not that these blogs are the most popular, or the funniest or silliest or best written blogs out there, although sometimes they are.

I'm drawn to these blogs because their writers are crying out, just like I was after Seth's diagnosis, or after ny marriage fell apart, or when Evany was born so early. For some reason, they have been chosen to walk a tough road, and I am inexorably sucked into their journeys. I feel a kinship with them, if you will, although in most cases, our stories are so, so different.

And I thought, tonight...what's the point of having an readership at all, any people who keep coming back to check in on my family out of the goodness of their hearts, if I'm not going to share these people's stories with them as well? I know how much every comment, every prayer helped me then...how much they help me now.

So without further ado, here are a few blogs I can't stay away from these days.

The Schros - The story of a young family of four, the head of which (Jordan) is battling Ewing Sarcoma. Katelyn's post about how she and her husband had laid all their future dreams and goals on the altar at Jesus' feet brought me to tears. So worth reading, and so, so worth praying. Please check out their blog. Jordan is returning home to spend time with his family and they could really, really use prayers for peace beyond understanding, miraculous healing if that's God's will, and that they would be incredibly blessed in this time together at home.

Loving Baby Daylon  and Care for Anabella- I found both of these adorable babies through little Jonah's blog. They are both just over a year old and suffering from Epidermolysis Bullosa, as Jonah is. Daylon and Anabella have both recently received blood marrow transplants from their siblings in an effort to help their rare skin disease. While the transplants seem to be working, the side effects from the chemo and all the interventions are taking their toll and both kiddos are on ventilators and battling a host of issues right now and they could definitely use prayer.

Thanks for taking the time to read about the blogs that are speaking to me these days. Thanks also for letting my blog continue to speak to you, and, and please always feel free to send prayer requests my way. I love having the opportunity to give back even a little bit of what we've been given.

My Blog Vacation

This past couple of weeks...wow. I still don't know if I can articulate what it's been like.

I know I shared before that lots of anniversaries were coming up...and not good ones. July 3rd, the anniversary of John leaving. July 5th, the day I found out he'd had an affair. July 7th...our wedding anniversary.

But I have to back up even further to set the stage. A while back, a couple months ago, John's girlfriend broke up with him. He was devastated, to say the least. As weird as it is, I felt bad for him. He had, for whatever reason, fallen head over heels for this girl, all logic aside. I know what it feels like, to have the person you think is behind you no matter what walk away from you. Now, to be fair, my experience was real and life altering and his, like the rest of his relationship with this girl, was...not exactly something to write home about. But when someone's hurting, it doesn't really matter if it makes logical sense, right? He was hurting, and that was all there was to it. I wanted to help, because no matter what he's done to me, I wouldn't wish feeling that way on anyone.

And with this chick out of the picture, (or mostly out of the picture, foreshadowing, foreshadowing! Haha!) John improved. So much. He was bearable...even fun. He was more attentive to the kids. He made jokes at his own expense. He was kind. He apologized for things he had done. We actually got along...we spent time together and had fun and talked about lots of things and eventually, after he started to move past the devastated phase, even broached the subject of what it would look like if we got back together. I started to think that all these anniversaries may come and go and the situation would be very different than last year, maybe even a new start. I was, you could say, cautiously optimistic.

You know when you're watching a movie and the pieces all just fall into place a little too easily, where the kid is just too cute and sweet and you know without a doubt something bad is going to happen to him?

Yeah, I'm that kid in this situation. Not that I'm just too cute and sweet, but that's my character in this story, okay?  It was like a perfect storm, the way all these little things fell into place to make it all fall apart again.

It turned out that John's ex, despite having gotten herself engaged to someone else, wasn't exactly a fan of him spending more time with me. I'm still not quite able to figure that one out, but who knows. Regardless, it got me all bejiggedy and I could tell it was reaching the point where John was going to have to choose what kind of life he really wanted. One with his family, or one...well, without, aside from visitation, of course.

And then this really crazy thing happened. And you could say I took it personally.

Someone called Child Protective Services and told them I was abusing the kids.

I almost didn't tell this part, because it's beyond mortifying...I mean, all I've had this year is my kids, and the fact that someone took it upon themselves to call and tell someone that could take my kids away that I was a bad parent? Well, I didn't take it well, to say the least.

I was incredibly hurt and John was incredibly angry and between the two of us, we thought of roughly a hundred people who could have done it, all without knowing any details about the allegations at all. This is when I stopped blogging...I felt like I was under attack, that anything I said or did could be picked apart and put back together to prove that I didn't deserve my kids. My head was spinning and I was suspicious of everyone, although there was one person who came to all of our minds first. I tried to be fair and give the benefit of the doubt, thinking it could have been an overzealous VBS worker or someone who misunderstood Jace on a chatty day. (He's a talker, you know)

In case you hadn't noticed, what people think about me is really important to me. It shouldn't be, but it is, and whoever launched this attack hit me right in the heart. I fell apart, a little, although I tried to hold it together and got a list of people who could speak to my parenting together for the case worker.

The timing of it all was crazy, and it was days after the initial visit before the case worker made it out to interview John and me. When she did, she told me she would read the allegations and then we could discuss details.

So she started to read the list. And she read and she read, and my jaw just dropped open. It was so long that if any of it had been true, my kids would have been in the hospital or possibly dead. Jace alone was supposed to have about 12-14 bruises in various locations on his body. As she finished and looked at me expectantly, I just shook my head.

"I don't even know what to say." I stammered, almost laughing at the insanity. "I mean...he's a boy. He gets bruises. He flips over his bunk bed. He dive bombs over the couch. But...I don't remember any of the bruises you're talking about."

She nodded and finally, her composure relaxed. She said that she saw Jace within 24 hours of the call, and he didn't have a single one of the bruises that the person who called reported. 24 hours. So there was no time for the supposed bruises to fade, which means...they never existed.

She went on to speak to John and then we both stood on the porch, talking to her. John asked her if she thought it could be malicious and she just nodded, then asked us the same question. Then she went on to tell us that if we ever found out who called in (the call was anonymous), they could prosecute, but as things stood, she would just be closing the case, as she didn't see any reason to keep it open.

As John and I sat in the kitchen after the case worker left, it hit us. Whoever called did it just to be spiteful and miserable. They knew it was completely fabricated. Truthfully, that upsets me more than anything else. I could have forgiven someone who was truly concerned, but knowing that someone is just messing with me is tough. There's no reason for this...no logic, no sensibility. Just spite.

And while getting the case against me closed was a weight off my shoulders, it still burns me up knowing that someone would attack my parenting in that way. Then, as if that wasn't enough, John let his ex girlfriend know just how much time he'd been spending with me, and she wasn't a fan. So he told her he wouldn't anymore, and that was that for our possibly burgeoning re-relationship. Which...yeah, I kind of opened myself up for that, so I can't complain too much.

And it all, the CPS allegations, the crumbling of the possibility of my marriage working out...it all happened literally days before the anniversary of John's leaving. So I was in a really good place going into that weekend, as I'm sure you can guess.

That was sarcasm, of course.

So I took those days to just...think, to be sad, to mourn, to look at where I am now and where I was a year ago...on the surface, ironically similar places. I'd been, in essence, left all over again, and on top of that, I felt like someone was out to get me.

But then I took all these days to think. And I'm thinking it's okay. A bookend, if you will. Yes, I'm a big pushover who put herself in the position to get crushed all over again, but then again...I'll never have to wonder if I did everything I could for my family. I was, in simple terms, an idiot to consider giving John another chance after everything he's done. I mean, what did I think would happen? This is the guy who left me when I was three months pregnant.

Well, redemption, for starters. I feel strongly that everyone can be redeemed. Turned out that the glimpses I was seeing of redemption were just that...glimpses, potential. He's not there, yet, and to be honest maybe he won't ever be. I opened myself up to getting hurt again, as silly as it was, because I needed to know for sure. I don't feel bad for forgiving him. I don't feel bad for giving him a chance. I don't feel bad for expecting more from him, either. I don't feel bad for being disappointed for me and for my kids but most of all for him that he keeps make these choices that take him further from us. I don't feel bad, at this point, for moving on.

But it is what it is, and there are good things. I've made it a year on my own, and while it would have been nice if God's plan was to rebuild my family, I have no doubt that I can make it another year, and another, if that's what's in the cards for me. And hopefully someday a year will come when I'm not doing it on my own anymore. I have no doubt that that person, whoever he is, will be ideal for my family, will be handpicked to come alongside me and share both the joys and the burdens of my life with my children. And I hope it will be someone who will guard my heart so I don't have to.

For the record, though. I would be okay with it being sooner rather than later. I'm ready to have something good happen next July so I can stop dreading these anniversaries. I'm glad I have a year before I have to worry about it again. And most of all,  I would really, really like it if I never ever heard from CPS again.

So there. That's what happened on my blog vacation. I know, I know, you're all jealous. =)

Lemons

I need to announce the winner of the jewelry giveaway, and I actually have another giveaway to post, too. I need to post the funny video I got of the kids dancing. I want to post about assembling a million crafts for our churches VBS. I want to post about lots of things.

But instead, I'm having a rough week. Several different things have happened all at once that were only mildly upsetting, but when taken all together have pretty much knocked me down momentarily.

I don't really want to go into details, but if you guys could be in prayer for our family, I'd really, really appreciate it. I'm not saying that to be dramatic, but we could use it. We're all healthy, safe, and we're not getting thrown out into the street, just to calm any fears you may have. But I am under more spiritual attack right now than I have been in a very long time, and I could use prayers for me and the whole family.

I'll be back soon, I promise.

Thank you in advance, guys. You mean the world to me.

Time

Evany is going to be 7 months old in a week.

My baby is closer to being a year old than a newborn. (The first time I typed that, I wrote newbairn. What am I, Irish? She's a wee bairn...anyway) I can't believe how time flies.

She's hilarious and funny and I have no pictures to show you because my camera battery died a week ago and I can't seem to drum up the energy to charge it. The reaching and plugging that would have to happen is apparently just too much for me.

I can feel myself heading for a down swing in my mood. Or I'm just PMSing. Let's hope it that, shall we? Historically, though, I tend to have periods where I'm doing great and then periods where I do not so great. I kind of love that I just used the word period twice right after I posted about PMS. Very appropriate, no?

And this started out being about Vivi, but here we go on a rabbit trail. Time is a funny thing, how it passes. Dates are big for me, the calendar ones, that is, and just like I always get down leading up to Eli's birthday, I can feel myself getting down leading up to July. John left on July 3rd. Our wedding anniversary is July 7th. Sandwiching the 4th of July in there kind of guarantees it's going to be a rough time. All the families getting together, barbecuing and having fun. Last year I sat alone after the kids went to bed, listening to the fireworks and wondering what had happened to my life. Two days later I was having what amounted to the closest thing to a nervous breakdown I've ever had.

Now almost a year later, I'm still alive. I didn't drive off a bridge. My kids are all healthy and happy. To be honest, John and I get along better now than we did this time last year. We've learned to relate and disagree in more productive ways. We're a team for the kids, we're genuinely friends at this point, and it is what it is. Where will we be a year from now God only knows. But the point is, some things are actually better now than they were a year ago.

But then again, this year has sucked. It's been hard and heartbreaking and frustrating and I've wanted to throw in the towel more times than I can count. I've felt sorry for myself an embarrassing number of times. Saying I'm a better Christian in light of what's happened would be a lie. I'm insecure in ways I never was before. Just tonight I told John I thought that someone had a voodoo doll of me and was sticking pins in gleefully. This has been the most challenging year of my life, bar none, not even the first year after Eli died. Sometimes I'd like to post everything that bothers me on this blog, in excruciating detail, just to make myself feel better, but then I remember that I want to be a bigger person, not a vindictive one, and I'd probably only feel better for a few minutes. Because it's something I fight against all the time, there are nights I sit in front of a blinking cursor, only able to think about the things I can't say.

Overall, though, I think it's a wash between positive and negative. We're getting nowhere on the house issue. Apparently the month we applied for the HAMP modification, more people were denied than ever. It sucks. It's hard to plan, hard to know what to do. It's tiring. It's sad. I walked on a squeaky board the other day and hearing it made me remember John installing that exact piece of wood, the nights we spent scraping popcorn from the ceilings and getting more texture paint on the floors and each other than the walls and ceiling. The time I got all the way up the scaffolding and started painting our fifteen foot ceiling only to realize I am really, really afraid of heights. I don't want to leave my house.

I'm beginning to think I am just PMSing. I just watched a promo for teen mom and almost cried. Ugh.

In which I type extensively about nothing, basically.

Blargh. Argh. Ergh.

I'm working on answering the questions you all asked me, but I have a headache tonight, so...yeah. If you didn't ask your burning question yet, go right ahead, you can still get it in there. I just took some migraine medication that makes me a little loopy, so this post is going to be long and meandering, let me tell you that right now. Good luck, and bless you. 

So yesterday was the ten year anniversary of my high school graduation. 

Now that's crazy. It feels like it's been both five minutes and fifty years since my high school graduation. The guy I was dating then (remember, I told you I date phases of my life by the guy I was seeing), is now married with a kid and a whole lot of dogs, or so I hear through the grapevine. He was cute. 

Our high school colors were brown and orange, which is...so not cool. I graduated in a brown cap and gown. Luckily brown is a good color on me, or so I hope. Our Marching Band, though, which I was a proud part of, wore teal, not brown or orange, and yet we were called the Big Orange Pride. It was a little confusing, to say the least. 

I got called into work today where I had a very involved conversation about whether I will go to my ten year reunion (no, since it falls on Seth's birthday and my driving buddy fell through, anyway), and the girls were super disappointed in me and my reasoning for not going. Of course, they are a lot younger than me. Yes, I'm the old one at my job. All the waitresses are in their early twenties, it seems. I, apparently, am old. Ish. 

John was really good about coming over right away to corral the kids when I got called in today. That was cool, so when I got done with work I brought a couple of our favorite meals home with me from work to be nice (I am capable of being nice, MANDY!). When I walked in the door and it registered that the kids were all resting and the house wasn't trashed and I was going to be able to sit down and eat food that I didn't cook without a  kid pulling on my leg, I almost passed out in excitement. Of course John is a toddler in his own special way, so that brought me back to reality pretty quickly. 

While we ate we discussed Harry Potter, the kids, and the fine art of texting and how he needs an intervention. Now, I love my texts, but he takes it to a whole new level...the level in which you text to let people know you're breathing. I kindly offered to text the girls who were blowing up his phone with the information that he was beyond broke, having lunch with his ex-wife and that his four kids would be up from their naps soon to help thin the herd of interested parties, but he declined! Can't imagine why. I think it would be a good litmus test for their sanity, personally. 

That just reminded me of  How I Met Your Mother when Lily pretended to be Barney's wife to get rid of the girls he brought home. I love that show. 

I'm out of toilet paper and paper towels. Houston, we have a problem. 

The neighbor kids were over for a while tonight because Ella had to go to urgent care. At least one of our kids has been sick since last week, consecutively. Only the babies have escaped it so far, and I'm really, really hoping that they won't get sick. Evany has never really been sick, and I don't feel like now is a good time to start.

Ava and Jace are doing an evening VBS next week...this is a first. They normally go to bed at 7, so staying up until after nine is going to be really interesting. And by interesting I mean "a really bad idea." But a bunch of their friends from school are going and I couldn't leave them out. Have any of you done night time VBS, and how did it go? 

Universal Studio's Harry Potter land, or whatever it is, is opening this month. I am so excited I could do a round off possibly followed by a back flip. Not really, I can't do a back flip. But I do love Harry Potter, and the idea of getting to walk around Hogwarts makes me squee like a little girl. Butterbeer! I am more excited about this than I used to be (ok, still am) about New Kids on the Block. And I love NKOTB more than most things in life. I had an NKOTB sleeping bag, pillow, and poster, and I dragged them all out into the living room every Saturday to watch the New Kid's Cartoon. Wow, that was a long time ago.

Recently I got to go to Busch Garden's with no kids and I rode so many roller coasters I almost threw up. That was a bad decision. Hindsight is 20/20 of course, but in retrospect, riding each coaster once seems like the right choice. When we started the second round of coastering, I went down hill quickly. Let's hope I remember that next time, huh? I just...I love roller coasters. I'm a huge wuss, and roller coasters are the one thing I'm kind of brave about, although that's probably just because I can't get off once the harness is locked and I start to rethink my choices. 

And I'm done.  How's your weekend going?