Rants, Raves, and Hopes {2014}

It's hard to believe that the last time I posted was last Spring. I'd love to list out everything I've done since then, but that would be nothing short of boring. Hell, I don't even think I could remember all of the moments: the chaos, the triumphs, the heartache, the pure joy. We've seen it all over the past eight months and I am not sure I could sum it all up in a few words. So, here we are: 2014. Good Lord, just reading that number makes me feel old. But, I guess we aren't getting any younger. Every January I find myself doing the same thing: spring cleaning (way before I should) and creating a new budget, that pretty much gets thrown in the trash by February. Here's to hoping I learn to "need" less this year in hopes of proving myself (and my oh-so-awesome husband) wrong. How am I doing? To be honest, most days I don't know. My mood flucuates easily. I've always been an emotional person, but sometimes life catches up to me. The realization that I virtually lost my mother and best friend over a year ago hits me at random times. I get mad, sad, and resentful, jealous of those who still have their mother to shop with, to talk to, to snuggle their children. There have been a handful of times over the past few months where Kevin finds me laying in bed crying. He knows why and there isn't a damn thing he can say that would make me feel better. Not a single thing. It's not fair; I know that. Without anything short of a miracle, she will never be the same again. And though I whole-heartedly believe in miracles, I am mad at the world that this happened to me. I feel cheated. To put it simply, I am just as heartbroken today as I was on August 18, 2012, when I looked into my mother's eyes knowing something terrible had happened. It hurts like hell. "Everyone" says I should be thankful she is still here. And I am. But, is she? I question that all of the time. Everything she loved to do: spend time with her children and grandchildren, tell stories, give advice, help others; all of it has been stolen from her. And yes, she gets to visit with all of us, but without a working right arm, being able to walk, or being able to even say a coherent word (let alone have a simple conversation), how happy is she? I take comfort in the fact that I know she knows how much I (and her children and grandchildren) love her. She knows it, she believes it. I don't think I'll ever accept what has happened. I should, so maybe I could 'move on' and 'get over it'. But, I don't think I ever will. And I think that's okay, but it makes loving all of the other parts of life very hard. As long as she is on this earth, I will hope, wish, and pray, with all of my heart that my mother would be on the other end of a phone call or walk through my front door and tell me that this nightmare was just that.

If she could read this (and she might!) she'd be mad that I would classify my life as a nightmare. She would quickly remind me how blessed I am and to focus more on the good and positive in my life. And I have. I am trying really hard to do that. For myself, for my family, for my career. The positives have been grand, lately: but it seems so coated, at times, because of the huge scar I have on my heart. Time heals all wounds, they say. But, I might be waiting forever for this one.

The five little people we are raising are just the light of my life. My husband is still his athletic, adventure-racing loving self, who juggles his own business and our family. And me, well, I'm still neurotic and crazy trying to 'do it all' and learning to balance the needs, wants, and necessities of our daily lives. The balance is hard some days. Teaching your children something you haven't quite mastered yourself (patience, anyone?) is something I struggle with daily. Practice what you preach. It's a lot harder than it looks. I see our children growing into themselves. I love the givers, lovers, and doers they've become. It's no coincidence that the very strengths I love about my husband are threaded throughout the souls of our children. I'd also like to think I've passed down a few good traits, myself. ;)

Hopes: My hopes for the year are excessive. They'll probably carry me into the next decade. But, if it means that I accomplish the following before turning 40, I will have truly lived.

1. I want to let go of what I can't change. That's hard for me to do. My blood pressure goes up just thinking about the bitterness I feel when I think about 'losing' my Mom. But, the reality is: it happened. It's done. I can't change it. I somehow need to learn to live with it. This also applies to my parenting. If there is a day where I feel like I am the worst mother ever, I have to move on. I know that isn't really the case, I'm just hard on myself. Get over it, Susan. You can't win them all. And the world keeps turning whether you are pouting or not.

2. Embrace my life, myself, and those in it (even if some days I don't even want to be around 'me'...). This is it. I am not getting any younger. In most other places in the world, I live a sought after lifestyle, no matter how difficult a 'day in the life of me' may be. It's true. I need to learn to love the process a bit more than I do.

3. Be in the moment. Another tough one. I am so consumed by making sure everyone else is happy, comfortable, and fed, that I don't get to really be in the moment. I want to take in all of the emotions (good or bad) way more than I do. Sometimes, I miss the true beauty of life because I worry so much about helping others see it.

On a totally random side note: We have been out of school for two days (the first day because it was going to snow and the second because it did snow). I caught a few super cute pictures of the kids who have been in and out all day! There is also a picture of Lily Kate's first cheerleading competition, my Mom and I, and the kids on Christmas Eve. Hoping to make this whole blogging thing a habit again...