The unexpected

Parenting is weird. You spend nine months worrying, daydreaming, building up these elaborate scenarios in your head, only to realize within hours of returning from the hospital that you have no idea what you are doing. It all boils down to the fact that we can plan, daydream, and prepare ourselves as much as possible, but nothing is ever guaranteed.

This has not been an easy season for my extended family. The deepest of our roots, the foundation (in all it's imperfection), crumbled after forty two years. We are all wading through the emotional and logistical aftermath, with my main focus on uplifting the people hurting the most. We are cautiously imagining a new normal, while all of us are fully aware that we have no idea what the future looks like. All of this is further complicated by serious health issues with both parents. Things like caretaking and medical needs are whisked into this mix of uncertainty.

The weird, beautiful, painful part of this is that it goes on. It always does. While I am tempted to crawl under covers and ignore the persistent blast of Christmas tunes, to flip past the Christmas movies on TV, to cancel our Christmas plans, I have this little guy to take care of. He deserves every minute of a great Christmas. He deserves to carry the warmest and fuzziest of memories forward with him. He's a reminder that I have to keep moving forward, to grit my teeth through the parts I'm not feeling, and just keep going. I am grateful for this unexpected push, for the fact I get to be a parent at all, and for the way our daydreams will never prepare us for muddling our way through life. There is power in wading your way through uncertainty.

Jumbled

My brain is faulty. The wiring is jumbled, circuits firing off-kilter and others inexplicably dim when I least expect them to.

Happy turns into borderline manic, driven, then poof. No amount of sleep is adequate. The minute and significant tasks feel equally impossible. The body and mind ache to return to bed even when sleep persistently taunts the corners of your mind, just out of reach.

You see the wonderful bits of your life dancing in front of your eyes, fueling the shame that comes with depression. Cycle again. Push through the impossible to get back to happy.

Autumn

The leaves are awash in color. Brisk air rushes in the door as I hold his little hand in mine while we walk to the bus stop. I look down at the little boy that, blissfully, is still young enough to not be embarrassed to hold his mom's hand. Leaves crunch underfoot, dotting the grey pavement in bursts of color, demanding my attention. The scents of fires burning and the earthy undertone of leaves tickle my nose. Autumn insists that we press pause, look around, and appreciate the brief, beautiful things surrounding us.

Moving on

It felt like I woke up a few months ago and our parenting lives suddenly went from ones of baby-proofing and constantly stopping imminent danger to finally being able to step back a bit. The outlet covers were removed, we bought a couple bookcases (because books actually *mostly* stay put now!), the door knob covers were tossed. One can toss the door knob covers once your kid's life goal no longer involves opening the cleaning closet door and potentially drinking all the chemicals. It is simultaneously a tremendous relief, bittersweet, and inevitable part of parenting. He's growing up!

The thing I've been hoping for-the sense of peace over being "one and done" has finally been realized. I love our family as a 3 person (& a cat) unit. There is an ease about our days now. I no longer feel like I'm depriving Cooper of a sibling. Just because 2+ kids is the norm, does not mean that a family of 3 cannot be a beautiful, complete thing. I no longer feel like I'm getting punched in the stomach when I find out a coworker is pregnant, get asked why I'm not having more kids, or see pictures of siblings having fun.

Instead of obsessing over what could have been, I look around on a Sunday morning. Greg and I sipping on our coffee, Cooper playing, the light filtering in from my favorite living room window, and the cat stepping all over us while getting cat hair in our coffee. I embrace the feeling of contentment. This is our family. While 3 may not be the norm, we are content and I am grateful. The what-if may always linger lightly in the back of my mind, but it no longer has the power to sway me into worry and discontentment. We're moving on. It is a beautiful feeling.

Adulting

The best thing happened a little over a month ago. Some switch flipped in my brain and my response to anxiety went from "I'm so overwhelmed that I can't get anything done aside from sitting here thinking about how unnecessarily overwhelmed I am" to CLEAN ALL THE THINGS. It's amazing. Seriously. I finally have a positive and PRODUCTIVE response to something that used to be so negative. It helps me sleep a little better at night. I freaking love waking up to a clean house. Taking a bit of time to clean most nights also prevents that dreaded "spending the majority of Sunday scrambling with chores" habit that we were in.

Greg and I are finally tackling our finances head-on. We sat down and created a budget, made a few long-term goals, pulled up our credit report (ouch) to see what needs the most improvement, and are ready to knock out the rest of our debt. Although we have knocked out a serious amount of credit card debt over the last 2 years, we still have a significant amount to get rid of. I dealt with life-stress and being sick alllll the time last year by going on ALL the vacations. Even though all of our vacations and related expenses were paid in cash, we were still being irresponsible by vacationing while our old debt and student loans sat there accruing interest. On a happier note, we have accrued a pretty decent amount of equity on our tiny little house over the last 4 years and one of my (small) student loans will be paid off in a week! Progress.

I am soda-free, people! It wasn't a resolution, it just kind of happened with the snow storm and I decided to continue rolling with it. This probably seems like the most minor, trivial thing to people who don't have a soda habit but it's a big deal to this former Diet Coke guzzler. Part of me wishes I was formerly drinking something that had calories so this change would result in weight loss, but that's okay. I know it's better for my health to not be guzzling a bunch of aspartame.

I think I'm finally getting this adulting thing right. Maybe this means I'll eventually stop doing things like eating brownies for breakfast.