This blog is more for myself than anyone else. I don't want to forget all that happens in our lives. Thanks for walking with me on this journey, we'll see how this evolves!
YAY! I love it! You will be SO thankful you did. It is my journal/scrapbook/online photo sharing/therapy and I am so thankful I have done it. And one day when you want a "real copy" just get it printed :)
Whoever said, "don't cry over spilled milk" never actually tipped over a bottle of human milk. They should have clarified that with "don't cry over spilled COW'S milk." And those same people never had to throw away old/bad/allergy-filled human milk either. When Mia was a baby I learned that I had an enzyme in my milk that caused it to taste different after being frozen. Allison never seemed to care, but Mia refused to drink my milk after it had been in the freezer. Once we discovered why she was refusing bottles, she only got the fresh stuff. I had about 85 ounces already in my deep freeze when all this craziness started. And for anyone who has ever pumped, throwing away milk is not easy. In fact, I couldn't do it. So it has remained in my deep freeze...until now. By the time the twins were born it was already passed the expiration date for frozen human milk. But I still couldn't bear to throw it out. Today I needed some space and actuall...
I'm a pretty bold, honest person. I say it how it is. Those of you who have know me for only the past 10 years or so wouldn't believe that I haven't always been like this. The lying started in high school...at first, it was just my feelings & emotions. In college I progressed to hiding some pretty horrible behaviors. In the early post-college years I flat out lied about close to everything. The hiding and lying threatened my job and almost took my life. I hated myself. I hated my body, my personality, everything. And I didn't know why. I had no idea why I was so depressed, confused and angry. I had had a wonderful childhood and came from a great family. There was no abuse, no rebellion, no tragic deaths or horrible secrets. So the guilt set in. Shoot, I don't even have a good reason to feel this way. Depression turned to guilt turned to shame. It all became too much and the feelings needed an outlet. Thus, the birth of my 7-year-long struggle with an eating di...
I've been wanting to post on this topic for awhile now. I don't go through a week without someone saying the words, "I don't know how you do it," or some variation of that. Most people are well intentioned, and just can't imagine having 4 young kids, especially having twins....at least, I think that is what they mean. I always want to have a really good comeback, but most of the time I wonder what "it" is. So I decided to see what Google had to say on "it." I stumbled upon a blog and thought the author, Misty, had some enlightening words when her mother had a sudden, massive heart attack : When I was doing all the things I knew to do to take care of my mom, I never even thought about “how” I was going to do "it". Most mornings (and most nights) I told God that I couldn’t, so He had to. He did. He woke me up every morning, got me showered and cleaned, put me in my car, drove me to the hospital, and got me back to that room (not...
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