Photographs and Memories

Today I have the honor of guest posting over at John's place: Daddy Run's A lot, about my perfect children. :)  If you haven't been reading John then you are really missing out, so go! Check him out.

Over here, I'm talking about depression and healing.

I've told you before about how I literally lost two plus years to depression. I have huge chunks of my memories just gone. I see pictures and have absolutely no recollection of the event, have no idea what the event even is sometimes. The grief has been overwhelming at times to know that I've missed so much.

But the other day I made the most wonderful discovery: I took a thousand pictures during that time. It's as if part of me knew I wasn't truly connected and was missing things. That someday I'd crave those moments. So I took a bajillion pictures. Even if I don't have the memories in my head, I have them in scrapbooks.

I think taking pictures was my way of participating at that time. Since I had zero energy or want to get up and involved, I become the photographer. Therefore I could sit and snap pictures or just walk around after the kids as they explored the zoo, museums and ordinary daily things. How could I run through the sprinkler with the kids when I had to take pictures? So I remained an observer.

But I have those pictures. I have pictures of everything. That farm trip, the Children's museum, swimming. Silly faces and temper tantrums. I have the memories in concrete form.

This is incredibly healing for me.

And sometimes the pictures bring back the real memories, which an unexpected and beautiful gift.

Yes, I Listened, Because She did First

If you're here visiting from Diana's place, welcome, but let me quickly tell you that she is a rock. Not me.

I was pretty out of it when we started talking -- my husband has known her since before she was born and we are good friends with her parents-- and I was still in the grips of a deep depression. She just accepted me as I was. She encouraged me to start blogging about my journey up to that point and what I was trying to do in order to get healthy.

She could have run screaming into the night. I might have.

She is a rock.

She would have done the exact same thing for me - and she has. So many times.

So my listening wasn't such a big deal. It was just me loving her the way she has always loved me.

 

 

It's A Whole New World

Check.It.Out.

Look around, go ahead.

Drool over my stylish header.

Be jealous of my color scheme. (I have a color scheme!)

Swoon over my social network buttons. (Is that bird not the sweetest?)

Be envious of  my new button.

*sighs*

I love.it.all.

Dana at The Vintage Pear designed it for me - and included me in the entire process. It was so fun! She worked really hard on this design and I want to tell her THANK YOU. I enjoy just gazing at my home page. For long periods of time. True story.

If you need some bling on your blog, go see Dana. She rocks. Obviously.

Kickin' Depressions' Butt: At Diana's Place

Today I am a lucky girl and guest posting over at Diana's: Hormonal Imbalances. I adore her, have I mentioned this before? Have you read her? You must. Hers is the first blog I ever read and she inspired me to start blogging. So, today, being at her place, even if I've been there before, is huge for me. Always. I get all nervous and shaky and take forever and a day to write my post. Then I stress about if it's blog-worthy enough for her site. Because I want to do her proud, as well as me and all of you. Click on over HERE and see what I have to say about kicking depressions butt and what I want for my blog.

What's Goin' On?

Today I'm over at Branson's place, A Reflection of Something -- so cool! When she asked me to be a guest blogger on, as she put it, how I'm 'rocking' motherhood and depression, I was blown away. First of all, she thinks I'm rocking this gig? Cool. :) \m/ While I don't think I'm  rocking this whole thing (especially this week), I jumped at the chance. Branson is such an inspiration. So head on over there and check it out. Really.

Over here, I'm filling you in on Sarah and that Elf on The Shelf of ours, Mr. Red.

So Much To Be Thankful For

I know this is an obvious post, but let's go with it, shall we?

I have so much to be thankful for. For friends who have stood by me as I heal. Who have supported me with kindness and love this past year. I don't know if you'll ever understand how much your love and support mean to me, and I can't ever thank you enough. When I'm having a bad day your friendships pull me up.

For family who loved me through the darkest days and now smile with me as I have bright days. You helped me when I couldn't help myself and for that I am ever thankful. Your love pulls me up on my bad days and supports me in ways I can't express.

Nerves

So, Diana over at Hormonal Imbalances asked if I wanted to join in that blog everyday for a month deal. I can't remember the abbreviation, it's 5:30 in the morning and I'm honestly not in the mood to look it up. Anyway, I excitedly said yes.

Now I'm freaking my freak out. Blog every.single.day for one month. I'm doing pretty good if I manage to get time in for every other day.  But, I think it will be a good exercise in getting my mind working, pushing myself and making me really talk about all those things I hesitate to talk about. I've also been stalking some of your blogs this weekend - and plan on stalking more - for ideas. Is that wrong? John's 'Stream of Consciousness' posts are always so thoughtful and thought provoking, I wonder if mine would be same. Jodi at A Darker Shade of Blue provides so much researched information that I always leave there wondering if I could research a post to that extent. Molly at a Day in Mollywood talks so frankly about her struggle with depression that it makes me question if I'm doing the same thing. Kimberly over at Mommy Go Something Something does the same.  Diana talks about such a variety of topics.

So in the next month I hope to stretch and learn about myself as a blogger while also learning something about me. Let's see how it goes.

Hormonal Imbalances: On My Blog!

I have a guest blogger here today. She's not blogging at her own place today because (wait for it) she is here.at.my.house. Diana from Hormonal Imbalances is having a little vacation down memory lane, coming to see me, (and my husband, he's known her family since before she was born) and then hitting the BlogHer writing conference in NYC. What could be more perfect than that? You all know I adore and respect Diana - she's the reason I started blogging. She's the first blog I ever read. She's my 'Heir to Blair,' my 'Dooce.' And she's right here. Probably in my van as you read this. (that noise you hear? Me. Losing my mind.)

The Daily Dribbles . . . guest posting

Today I'm guest posting over at Kmama's place, The Daily Dribbles.

Stepford? Possibly.

Diana at Hormonal Imbalances wrote a post on Monday that got people crazy mad. It was about how being a good, attentive, present mom does not mean you have a dirty house.

*gasp*

I agree.

A Day In MollyWood: On My Blog!

I 'found' molly via Twitter when I had been blogging about a month. I read her post, "The Lost Year" and was blown away. I knew. I understood. I fell in absolute love with he. The first time I saw her in my comments? I sat and stared at my screen for about two minutes in complete shock. We've gotten to know each other a little since then and she's a wonderful, wonderful woman. When she agreed to guest post for me I did a big ole funky dance around my kitchen, I'm not going to lie.

Kim, who has always been one of my biggest supporters, asked me to write a guest post on what it’s like to blog about living with mental illness. For a few weeks I lingered in writer’s block every time I tried to think of what to write. Then a common little saying popped into my head.

 

The benefit outweighs the risk.

 

This was said to me when I was 21 weeks pregnant with my second son. I needed to be medicated due to a bad case of antenatal depression. I cried to my OB telling her that it couldn’t be good for the baby.

 

She looked straight at me and answered, “Neither is a mom who can’t take care of herself while she’s pregnant or after her baby is born. The benefit outweighs the risk.”

 

She was absolutely right. Soon Brigham was born and it was one of the most memorable and blissful times of my life. The benefit most definitely outweighed the risk.

 

I think the same could be said of blogging about depression.

 

I understand the risks. Every time I write a post about depression I know more people will read it than any other posts I write. It is easily reflected in my blog stats. I get sad and the readers, they come a running. I would like to believe that they are there because they worry about me or they want to learn more about it. But I’m sure some of it is the ambulance-chaser mentality. Watching people falter is fun for some people.

 

The risks grew as my family members and friends started reading my blog. Even my mom reads it now! I used to share stories of my most difficult times only to the strangers who stumbled upon my blog. Now people I know and love read the words I write. Worrying them is never my intention. Writing is my outlet. It is the way I repair what is broken. It makes me happy and helps me heal. I know they understand that.

 

Blogging about something so personal means I have to moderate comments. It is sad but I have received a few hateful anonymous comments that if published would erupt into a catfight below my post. I don’t want that negativity on my blog so those go straight to the blog landfill.

 

One of the worst comments I ever received said that I needed to “shut the f**k up” about my depression and write about something else. They told me no one cares about it. Best believe that went unpublished. But it didn’t stop me from wondering if this person was right.

 

 

It can be risky to share so much. But for every hateful comment I receive there are also beautiful and uplifting emails sent to me each and every time I post about my struggles.

 

This email was sent to me after pressing publish on one of the most difficult posts I have ever written involving suicidal thoughts.

 

I just wanted to say thank you for sharing your story. I am sitting at work reading your blog and having a weird "I wasn't the only one" feeling. Mostly because I know that girl. You are brave and strong and truly inspirational. And yes you do deserve to hear that.

 

Every time I wonder if I’ve shared too much and contemplate quitting I receive an email like the one above. The feeling that I’ve helped someone else in some small way makes me feel like I made the right decision to blog about a taboo subject.

I know talking about mental illness makes some people uncomfortable. But it breaks my heart that many people struggle even more because they feel they aren’t allowed to share it. They are afraid of being made fun of or afraid to be seen as weak or psycho.

 

I don’t blame them. I used to be afraid.

 

But being open about mental illness helps me and it seems to help others too. As long as that’s the case I will keep it up. I will continue writing because the benefit outweighs the risk.

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Straight Talk: On My Blog!

I've been reading Jess at Straight Talk Jess for over a year. And I love her. Like, I want to go to Texas and hang out with her and her kids, go shopping, grab a Starbucks, have some lunch, go to a movie have a great big girlie sleep over, love her. Or something like that. Anyway. She's all kinds of cool. She blogs about everything from running to mommy issues to being a working mom. She's always interesting. And she's here.  (That? Is the sound of me jumping up and down like a teen ager. And going *squeeee!*)

Great Expectations.
 
I had my Allie on May 31st. Just in time for my Ave to get out of school for summer vacation. New mom and an almost six-year-old at home in the hottest Texas summer on record. SCORE!  That’s not a good combo when you can’t go outside after 10:00 in the morning and you can’t walk to the car without sweating your already leaky boobs off. 
 
By the end of the summer, I was starting to feel anxious and depressed.  I was terrified PPD was rearing its ugly head.  I couldn’t take being at home anymore. I was starting to get edgy on simple shopping trips.
 
I love my girls to pieces, but I was consumed that I was a fail in the healthy eating, arts & crafts, and “not watching tv or iPod for 8 hours a day” department.  Because I was.
 
I went back to work at 12 weeks on the day Ava started kinder—she loves it, by the way.  Allie went to daycare.  It has been fantastic (other than the colds they both got the first week of being at school/daycare).  I feel human again.  I get dressed up, I get to read my favorite blogs, and I get to interact with the real world. I do my job and I’m good at it.
 
But wait.  It’s not that easy, right? Nope.
 
Cue the guilt.  I felt guilty that I couldn’t handle being at home.  I feel guilty baby girl is at daycare with “strangers” for 9 hours a day.  I feel guilty that some nights I’m so damn tired that frozen chicken strips and ramen noodles is a perfectly acceptable meal for my daughter and dinner involves tortillas and hamburger meat, again.  My kitchen? The laundry? The dirty floors? To quote the fabulous Diana, ::head explosion::
 
Guilt. Guilt. GUILT.
 
But you know what? It’s what works for us, for me.  I can’t stay home and I like being at work.  Why should I feel guilty about it?  My girls are happy and so are we.
 
At some point you have to step back, put your big girl panties on and get over it.  Yes, it is exhausting working all day, managing a three-month-old, a five-year-old, and a household (and a husband).  Paying too much attention to the happy go lucky mamas out there that make staying home sound like heaven will make everyone else feel bad.   
 
My kitchen isn’t nearly as clean as it should be.  My floors don’t sparkle.  Our clothes *might* be in laundry baskets or piles, whatever same thing.  Doesn’t matter.  We’ve got clean clothes to wear and food in our bellies.  The fact that there’s a mess along the way is insignificant.  Like I say, “as long as I can walk without falling over,” the house is a win.
 
Do I wish things were different? Sometimes.  But at the end of the day, I’m happy with the way things are. I like working.  I’ve ordered a new planner so I can stop forgetting everything that I’m supposed to be doing. Slowly I’m learning to let go of unrealistic expectations and start accepting that the rest of that doesn’t matter. 
 
Till I get the hang of that, I’m sure there will be many long stress-relieving runs along the way.  And probably some wine, cupcakes and pizza. #FTW

Daddy Runs A lot: On My Blog!

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Loving Yourself : A list

OK, so I was just over at John's place, Daddy Run's A Lot, and he put a challenge to us: write down things you love about yourself. I immediately clicked away. Then realized that I had to accept to the challenge. I think this is harder than writing about my depression -it's so easy to identify those things we dislike, we constantly point them out. To each other, to ourselves on a daily basis. What about those things that we love? What about a little self love? And go read John's list. Oh, and to add to John's list: great dad. He forgot that one.

So. My list. So hard. In no particular order:

1. I love that I am, after 10 years, still madly and deeply in love with my husband.

2. I love my hair.

3. I love the way I can  write a great post and connect with people. It makes me feel good for days and days.

4. I love that I am honest.

5. I love that I am talkative. Sometimes overly so, but it's a funky quirk about me. I own it.

 

Now, go over to John's place  and link up. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, is to tell us things that you like about YOU. Are you up for it?

Knit Purl Love

Today I'm guest/co-posting with Diana over at Hormonal Imbalances. This post was her idea -- she's smart that way. When she talked about taking up knitting when Sam left for training in Georgia she got a lot of questions about it. Since I was 'teaching' her (kinda)  she suggested we do a post about knitting and I literally squealed. One, because I'd semi-hooked her. Two, because knitting is my crack. And yarn is readily available. It's the gateway drug to felting, spinning  .. . farming your own sheep!  The web is my dealer. I buy weekly. The FedEx man delivers the stuff to my house and I greet him with shaking hands and a twitchy smile.

He fears me.

I need it. I crave it. Without it I am a shaking, shivering mess. What do I do with my hands as we watch TV? Drive in the car? Sit with family? What do I do when somebody has a baby? That baby must.have.a.new.hat. 

[caption id="attachment_1226" align="alignright" width="155" caption="Baby hats - don't be afraid to have fun!"][/caption]

*deep breath*

About three years ago a dear friend, Erin,  sat me down and said, "I'm teaching you to knit."  She put the needles in my hand, stood behind me and guided my hands through the old as time motions of knit one purl one.

[caption id="attachment_1224" align="alignright" width="150" caption="The knit stitch"][/caption]

As I strung together my first row of stitches, which were juvenile and messy, I was hooked. She spent a good two hours with me, guiding my hands over and over. Teaching me to cast on. Showing me the knit stitch and purl stitch countless times until I had it right. She left me with needles, yarn and a love of knitting.

Three years later I've attempted to pass on what has become my obsession hobby to Diana :) 

Here's the thing about knitting that goes beyond the creation of a new hat, sweater or scarf: you build a memory every time you sit down to work. I see Erin's hands when I 'throw' the yarn, as I make a knit stitch, because she taught me. My mom knits differently, so I don't see her hands in that movement. I see Erin's. But when I begin to knit socks? I'll see my mom's, because that's what she knits. When I start a baby sweater I immediately think of Diana's Bella, because I knit my first baby sweater for her. I remember what I was doing, where I was sitting. How worried I was that I wasn't going to be able to do it. And now as I knit, as I pick up new projets, half completed hats and sweaters, they each have their own memories attached to them. They are each their own little ball of happiness that I unravel and knit into something beautiful.

Some resources to help you get started:

~Stitch 'N bitch: The Knitter's Handbook by Debbie Stoller

     This is the ultimate start up guide to knitting. It reads like a novel and has excellent illustrations of casting on, all the stitches and some patterns. I'd recommend starting with some easier patterns, though. I always tell people to start with a simple baby hat or scarf, then move on.

~The Knitting Answer Book

     I actually knit with this book on my lap when I'm trying a new pattern. It's small and fits nicely. Don't be afraid to take notes in your books!

~One Skein Wonders

    Erin gave me this book as my first pattern book - and I think I've knitted almost all of them. Or many of them twice. Or more.

~ Pattern Works  http://patternworks.com  I love this website for their gadgets to go along with knitting. They have all sorts of things I need to help me knit. Things I didn't even know I needed. More crack!

~Knit Picks  http://knitpicks.com Oh, sweet yarn. This is my ultimate yarn supplier. They may know me by name. Possibly.

~On YouTube there is a series of videos by the Knit Witch. I believe she has books and a store of her own.

~Every knitter needs patterns. Many, many patterns. Daily sometimes.  http://ravelry.com has them. For free. You need to set up an account, but that's free, too. You can purchase patterns there as well.

Some personal tips from me, your average obsessed knitter:

~always use natural fibers -- wool, cotton, linen, silk

~use wooden needles. They're not as slippery and you'll have better control.

~don't be afraid of circulars -- use them as straight needles until you're ready to knit in the round.

~don't be afraid to just try. Violet is 8 and she's learning. She can already do the knit stitch. And Sarah is going to be learning soon. She's 5.

~practice. Make long scarves or pot holders until you're confident, if that's what feels right. I have many in my closets and drawers.

~find a GREAT yarn shop. Michael's just doesn't cut it for good supplies and yarn. Really. Plus, you need the knowledge of the owner.

~one final tip: have fun. Enjoy. Knit Purl LOVE

 

 

 

 

Guest Post: Arms Wide Open

Grace at Our Arms Wide Open was one of the first PPD/Depression blogs I found when I began looking around. I was immediately taken in by her charm, her candor. Her complete honesty. Grace's story is one that needs to be shared - and not just with new mom's. Her's is a journey of strength and character building that  you are going to find inspiring. Grace is one of the women who let me know that I wasn't alone. You're going to love her. I do. (and let's be honest. When she agreed to guest post? ::headexplosions::)

~~

Going through depression never really leaves you.

Sure, you heal slowly, life returns to normal - a new normal - and you move forward.
But there is always that demon in the shadow taunting you, waiting to catch you off guard. With time, the shadow becomes brighter and the demon smaller and less intimidating. With time, you gain confidence in yourself, what you've learned, how you've grown, the strength of those who love you. And you move forward even more, from small shaky steps, to leaping with purpose.

My son just turned 3 last week. I can say I've healed. I can say life is pretty much back to normal. The demons are there, however, and they manifest themselves in fear, doubt and guilt.

I'm still learning on a daily basis how to overcome these things will tools like positive thinking, planning ahead, networking with other moms, creating a support system, forgiving myself.

Before becoming a mom I never imagined I would go through what we went through. Now in retrospect, I would not be the mom I am today without overcoming depression. Depression stole a lot from us as a family, but it also gave us gifts.
The gift I am most thankful for is the bond my husband and son have. I attribute this largely to the fact that my husband had to step up to parenting in ways much more intense than the average husband and father. My son received this gift with open arms.
Depression also taught me a new level of gratefulness. I see things through a new lens. I am thankful and don't take the little things for granted. I appreciate small accomplishments. I went into this second pregnancy with purpose, intent, sweat on my brow, and determination in my heart. I don't take any of this lightly.

Depression gave me a community of other like-minded moms, many of whom have gone through the hell we went through. There's nothing that bonds women more than motherhood, and nothing more than overcoming postpartum depression.

In the thick of your pain, the last thing on your mind is the reasons behind your suffering. But, let me encourage you, let me assure you, you will heal. You will emerge from this darkness a brighter person, a lighter person, a person with more purpose.

In October we welcome our second little boy. The name we chose for him means "warrior." I think we are both entering this relationship trembling. But we will fight together and win.

This Is Me

I have exciting things to tell you today! First, I'm (somehow) guest posting over at Daddy Run's A Lot ! If you haven't ever visited John, you MUST. Not only will he inspire to run (a lot), he is funny, honest and amazing. He has a great story to share, a wonderful wife, and two small children that are words can't describe adorable. So, go check out John, because he is awesome and because somehow, someway he asked me to guest post and I'M over there today!

Second, in 10 short days I will be with those wonderful women I get together with each year and we will be seeing that guy in concert. Josh Groban. *sigh* And we have really good seats. Have I mentioned this before? Like, I can wave and he can wave back. *Which he will. He totally will.* 

Anyway. Over here, today I want to tell you about this.

The other day I was reading a post about depression and anitdepressants by Jodi Edwards Wright over at A Darker Shade of Blue. As always she addressed the questions surrounding that issue so well. It's about people questioning those of us on antidepressants and us becoming 'addicted' to them. I've encountered this question in real life and in the blogoshpere quite a few times, and thought it was a good time to explain a couple things.

To begin, I'm not on antidepressants any longer, I'm on a mood stabilizer. There is a difference, in that a mood stabilizer is an anti depressant combined with an anti anxiety medication. As I understand it, somehow the body metabolizes the medication differently when they are taken combined versus in two pills. I've had just about every anti depressant out there prescribed to me. And for me, they didn't work. And I took them with anti anxiety medication. That didn't work. The mood stabilizer? Well.  That's my pace maker. That's my insulin. My heart meds. My anti rejection meds. My anti seizure meds. It is not my meth. It is not my cocaine.  

It is my life.

Do you see the difference?

My brain does not produce the correct amounts of serotonin (as I understand this disease).  The mood stabilizer provides it with this. I take it each night. I wake each morning and I'm a normal, happy person. I'm a loving mom and wife. I'm a friend. Before it? Not even close. Breathing was all I could concentrate on, and I did that poorly. My body does need this drug, yes. But it needs it to be healthy. To be happy. To thrive. To remember my children's lives.

That is not an addiction.

This is me.
This is my brain.
This is my brain on drugs.
It's a beautiful thing.

My Eyes, My Eyes!

I can barely breathe, because I'm guest posting over at  Mama Still Wears Gucci !! I don't know quite how I managed to do this. Gucci is incredible and outrageous and all kinds of wonderful. She is a rare gem. I've adored her humor and outspoken ways since the day I landed on her blog over a year ago. And now somehow little me is on her blog. Go on over there for a visit and look around. Leave me a comment and let me know you stopped by!!

Listen up, people! It is once again swim suit season and we are at the pool every single day. For many, many hours. I calculated just how many here. And apparently there are some rules we need to go over as the summer begins.

Why? Do you not have mirrors? Do you think these things you do are attractive? They are not.

1. Butt crack. Just no. Never. Man, woman. Whatever. Sarah is 5 and I have decided to put her in dresses every day because the girl cannot keep her pants up. Her crack isn't cute. You're 20. And hot. You've got rocking abs and arms out of "Thor." But your butt crack? Makes me want to hurl. Plus, is this what the girls are into? Are they saying, "OMG, he's so hawt. Those abs. And that crack. *sigh*"

Girls, the same goes for you. I saw you in your string bikini, with the heart cut out that allowed your crack to wink at me as you walked by. Why? This is a fashion statement? What's next? A little pubic hair curling out?

2. Your underwear. You. Are. A. Lifeguard. Why in the name of all that is holy are you wearing 'shorts' (they come down to your ankles) that are slung so low I can see the label on your Calvin Klein's. And FYI? Not impressed that they're CK. Because I've noticed that they are same grey pair with white band and black lettering every day. Do you have seven of the same pair. Really? You do? Well, go swagger yourself in front of a set of teenagers and not this group of moms.

3. A tan does not make you fit. Or thin. Or make that bikini fit. Or make that flap of skin that is 5 inches thick disappear. Am I thin/fit? No. Do I wear a bikini? I do not. Because I should not. Look in the mirror.

4. Comparing children. Do not walk up to me and say, "How old is your daughter?" And when I say, "Five." Turn to your son and say, "See? Five. Same age as you and she's putting her face in the water. Why can't you?" Oh, they are fast friends now. And then you sit and chat me up? And you're actually nice? But your son hates my daughter and I really don't blame him. And I kind of hate you.

5. Watch your own kids. Does this one need explaining? You're at the pool. It has a lot of water. You should probably pay attention to those small humans that you proclaim to love more than life itself because if I have to jump up as though I'm about to go into the water after a drowning child one more time I'm going to lose mind (again.) Last year I went in twice after kids that were not mine. And did that weird jerk where you almost go, and the other parent realizes, "holy crap I was texting/talking/reading/drinking/sleeping and my kid is under the water." and grabs them.

I also don't want to discipline your child. They are not mine. I have my own to glare at all summer long as they spit water at me, I'll thank you to not allow your child to do the same.

Your Welcome.

Sunday Confessions:I'm Going To Miss Her

I'm linking up with the always awesome-sauce Diana over at Hormonal Imbalances today for her weekly hop, Sunday Confessions. Make sure you visit her all.the.time. Because I said so.

Sunday Confession: I'm Going To Miss Her.

Because she's moving. And if she lived here, as in the state I live in, well then it would make perfect sense that I would be missing her. Right? Right.

Only she lives in Colorado right now and is moving to Texas. So how much sense does it make that I'm going to miss her?

That would be zero, zilch, none.

I haven't seen her in person since October and uhm, that was the first time we actually met. But we talk on the phone every day. Sometimes for hours. (Dear husbands, you did not just read that. Really? We are totally working our butts off.)

What started out as a phone call about reflux and her daughter has turned into so much more. First it was questions about blogging. Hers is the first blog I ever read. Ever. And what made me want to do this.  She has the most incredible sense of humor. We started laughing and haven't stopped.

She has become one of my closest friends. I've told her some things I haven't shared with a whole lot of people. She didn't judge. She's become a role model for me in many ways. She is one of the most intelligent women I've ever met.  Her texts are witty and hilarious. I snort and laugh out loud at them, making my husband and random strangers give me the side eye. My kids, although they haven't met her, call her 'Auntie' and know when I'm on the phone with her. (It's not all the time. Really.)

And it makes no sense that I'm crying as I write this.

But she's moving and I'm sad.

Maybe I think she's going to start a new life in Texas and it will be so cool, fun and busy that she won't have time for me and my questions. My insanity of thoughts and ideas. That she'll meet a bunch of girls her age (I'm 10 years older.) and realize I'm no fun, really. 

Because I think she's cooler than Josh Groban. *gasp* *dies* ::headexplosion::

I giggle every time I pick up the phone and I hear, "Soooo, here's the thing." Or she answers the phone, "Hola."

So, she's moving and I'm going to miss her. And we don't live in the same state. And never have.

Because that makes sense.

*happy sigh*

When I first started blogging I saw all these little blog 'awards' scattered around blogs. I saw bloggers awarding these honors to each other and I'd read the 'nominations' with joy for them, and yes, jealousy. 

The blogoshpere can be full of love and these badges proved it. They were small nods, high fives, 'well dones'.  They were a way for one blogger to let another blogger know that something she did touched somebody. That something she wrote spoke to somebody else. And isn't that why we do this?

So, the other day, imagine my joy when I opened my e-mail and found, you guessed it, a blogging award. I know. Oh, you non-bloggers may laugh and shake your heads. I honestly don't care. This little badge right here, The Versatile Blogger Award, means I've done what I set out to do. I reached somebody. Somebody heard what I had to say. Maybe it helped, provided some information she needed, or just made her laugh. Her name is Theresa. She blogs over at A Mountain Momma and  she nominated me for this. Theresa, I can't thank you enough.

My award:

[caption id="attachment_700" align="aligncenter" width="150" caption="Mine! Mine! Mine!"][/caption]

I get to 'nominate' some bloggers I like to direct you all to, now that I'm award-worthy. So, in no particular order, the nominee's are:

Rose, at Not There Yet

Kristy, at Darn Near Domestic

Alexia, at Bacon and Babies

Branson, at Reflection of Something

Jess, at Straight Talk Jess

Ladies, your mission, should you chose to accept it, is to pass this award on to more deserving Versatile Bloggers!

Theresa? Thank you.