Tonight at 11:00

I'm a fairly naïve person. I was raised to think that the world was wholesome and good and that there weren't too many horrible things that happened. We didn't watch much news growing up. We didn't watch anything that was over a PG rating for the most part. I grew up thinking that everything was safe and secure. Then, as I was growing up and entering junior high and high school, I began to realize on my own that life wasn't as grand and glorious as my little sheltered mind was thinking. I remember sitting in the cafeteria in ninth grade and watching a drug deal go down right at my lunch table. In high school, there were huge problems with gangs and fights, to the point where school was almost cancelled because of threats that were made. When I left for college and was out on my own, my eyes were opened even more to the fact that I did not live in a safe, secure world, but made the excuse that I had moved to Seattle. From a small farm in Bremerton to a University that is almost more than the entire population of my hometown was an eye opening experience. My six years in Seattle further demonstrated that we do not live in safe, secure times. Then, I moved back home. Oh home! Tiny, safe, secure, small-town home. And then I married Brian. Brian was a dispatcher for the Washington State Patrol for part of our marriage, and eventually was a dispatcher for Cencom. He was also a volunteer firefighter and EMT. And my small, safe, secure world shattered into a million pieces. Scanners were always on in our home. His pager was with us wherever we went. I heard call after call. I listened to him vent and cry and worry about things that happened while he was at his job, and I was horrified. Surely, these things weren't happening in my hometown. Not here. I live on a farm. We are a smaller town. Surely, this just wasn't possible. But, it was. And my eyes were opened even more. It can be frightening to realize that you are not as safe as you thought you were. Being a teacher in an elementary school, we often have drills. They used to just be fire drills and earthquake drills. Eventually, we started having lockdown drills, and we seem to practice those more often than the others anymore. As a teacher, it makes my skin crawl and my heart sink when our principal comes over the intercom and announces that we are in lockdown, even as a drill. With all of the school shootings that take place, my mind races to those visuals that we often witness over and over again on TV and it takes my breath away. It makes it worse when I look at the babies sitting around my table and start to play through the "what ifs" during these drills. What if someone was in the annex? What if someone somehow got into my room? What if I had to make a split second decision of how to best protect these children, these little people that their parents entrusted to me? Ugh...just typing these things out makes my stomach churn because I'm torn. Although I know that I would sacrifice myself in a heartbeat to save any one of the babies that I serve in my office, I know that my heart would be breaking in two as visions of my girls would come into view. What a choice to have to make! And I just can't even think about this anymore. My heart rips in two thinking about lockdowns and why on earth this is even something that we have to plan for! Our jobs as teachers should be just that. To teach! To teach our children to the best of our abilities and not have to think about potentially risking our lives to save theirs. To simply help them learn reading and writing and math and not have to worry about all of the impacts the unsafe, cruel world put on them anymore. I typically don't get to pick my girls' up from school unless I have a day off. However, their usual babysitter was not available this afternoon so they went to the child care. I had a meeting at work and when it was over I began making the drive to their school. As I got closer and closer I noticed helicopters hovering in the sky from a distance. "Huh," I thought, "I wonder what's going on." The next intersection another helicopter was flying in. "Sheesh! That's strange. Something big must be happening." The next intersection pulled it into perspective a little bit more and I realized that the helicopters could be hovering over the school, but I wasn't sure so I began making up scenarios about what could be happening. The next intersection it was painfully obvious that the helicopters were right over the girls' school and my heart set to panic. I hadn't heard from my mom, who works at their school so everything must be fine. But, what if it wasn't and she couldn't call and let me know. And then the images started going through my head. Shootings and bad guys. People injured. Amelia scared and wanting me. Emerson being stuck in daycare where she didn't want to be in the first place. My parents...and then I shoved those thoughts aside, tried my best to think more positively, and drove as quickly as I could. Then, I started passing police car after police car. Police cars parked on the side of the road. Police officers walking down the street and the panic began to set in again. I got to the school, got out of my truck, and noticed that the helicopters were indeed right over the school. I slowly walked into the school, which I took as a good sign that I could do this, and found my mom. I just looked at her and said, "What's wrong? Why are there helicopters?" and she told me they had been in lockdown at the very end of their day. That everything was fine. That the police had called and put them in lockdown because there was a stabbing and that they hadn't found the suspect. That my dad and the school principal stood guard outside the school, watching for a stranger, for an intruder while all of the kids were tucked safely away in their classrooms with their amazing teachers and daycare workers. Trying not to cry, I walked as fast as I could up to the daycare to sign my babies out and take them home. They ran to me and chatted about pictures they'd drawn and games they'd played, people that were in daycare and why did I have to come and pick them up so early. My heart rate slowed as we walked hand in hand back down to the school to finish our evening together. As I was tucking Emerson into bed tonight she said, "Guess what, mommy? "What, sweetheart?" "Ms. Rita, I mean MomMom, came on the intercom this afternoon and said some things. The daycare people told us that we were going to play the quiet game for a long time and guess what? MomMom said that we won the game!" Tears came quickly to my eyes. Tears of thankfulness and joy. Tears of gratitude to the amazing people that work with my children. My sweet Emerson was playing the quiet game. And she was so excited that she won! "Emerson, that's great! It sounds like you did an amazing job of playing the quiet game! I'm proud of you!" "Night, mommy!" "Good night, Emmy. I love you!" And then I walked to the next girl's room. "Amelia, how do you feel about what happened today at school?" "You mean the lockdown?" "Yeah, are you ok with everything?" "Yeah. It was kind of boring. We had to sit in our classroom in the dark and be really quiet. But, it was just a drill. Ms. D said we were just practicing." And then the conversation turned to drills and asking if we have drills and wondering if the white board in her room would stay attached to the wall in an earthquake because she's right next to it and checked it out and doesn't think she stands a chance being next to it. And once again, my heart was relieved! Those teachers did what the teachers at my school would do. They protected my kids. They walked them through a lockdown and they kept them calm and everything was fine. I am blessed! I have a school that my children love where the teachers love and care for the children. And I get to be a teacher in a school where I get to love and care for my children. It makes going to work and playing through scenarios such as lockdowns so much easier when I know that while I'm protecting other peoples' children, there will be people protecting mine for me. We live in scary, scary times. Stabbing and shootings. People killing innocent children. Rapes and pornography. My eyes are wide open and there are many days that I wish they weren't. Remember at the beginning that I said I'm naïve, but I just cannot wrap my head around the idea that one human would look at another human and have the desire to take their life. Or how a teacher can look at a student and think that sleeping with that student is ok. Or how people could look at innocent little toddlers, and infants too anymore, and kill or beat them. It's hard to think through some of the things that happen. And it is scary times. I wish I could go back to thinking the world was safe and secure. It makes our jobs as parents so much harder. Finding a balance between teaching the girls that they are safe and secure, yet also instilling in them that people can be bad and to not trust everyone. Do I go around paranoid and worried? Actually, I don't. In fact, sometimes I think that I am too far on the other side of that in that I myself am still trusting and naïve and not really afraid of anything. That can be a dangerous mix! Things have happened in my life that has tested my trust and my fear, and perhaps these things should have made me more cautious, but it didn't. I think that part of it is that I don't want to live my life in fear. I don't want to be one that pulls my kids out of school and stays home and hides from everything in fear. I can't live like that! And I think that my faith in God brings that into perspective for me. I know that there is some sort of plan out there for my girls and for me. Does this mean I'm not cautious? Absolutely not! I am careful. I follow the rules. I try to be smart about things. But, I also don't live in paranoid fear. If I'm driving to my daughters' school and something seems amiss, I will have fear. But I'm not going to stop living for fear! Amelia's parting words to me tonight were, "Mommy, I'm glad that we practiced the lockdown today. Now if a real one happens, we'll be ready!" I smiled and told her I was glad they practiced too. Life is practice! We learn from the experiences that we have. Good and bad! Things happen to us and we react. We can either grow and try to do it better next time. Or we freak out and bury our heads in the sand and we're still no more prepared than we were to begin with. So, I'm choosing to practice! I've made lots of mistakes, but I can guarantee when they come back around again, I won't make the same mistakes. Learn from your mistakes! Have faith that there's more to your plan! Don't live in fear! Except for maybe when the helicopters are hovering...

Better As A Memory

So, yesterday's blog post was about music. And it's kind of funny how things work out, but part of tonight's is going to be also. Like I said yesterday, there are many things that I can relate to a song. Even as things are evolving in life, I'm often playing out a song in my head that would relate to that person or that situation or that moment. My closest friends have ringtones on my phone that I equate with thoughts and feelings about them. Music is just important to me, and I think that I forget that until something happens and I need a song. I've also stated before that life in our house is much like a roller coaster. There are ups and downs. Just when I think we are moving along well and things are happening and we are making progress, the bottom falls out and we are on a thrill ride. Tonight as I'm tucking Amelia into bed, I encountered one of those moments. She bowed her head, and I could tell right away that something was wrong. "Amelia?" "Can I talk to you about one more thing, mommy?" "Of course you can." "I think I'm a bad daughter." "Why on earth would you say that?" "Well, I like that we are a family of girls. I'm happy that we are a family of three. And that makes me feel like a bad little girl to daddy." Tears immediately welled up in my eyes as I thought of the struggle and the turmoil that goes through this little girl's head. I know that Amelia is smart and that she is not like your average six-year-old, and when it comes to stuff like this, and her making connections like this, I wish she wasn't so smart sometimes. "Amelia, that does not make you a bad daughter! AT ALL! Mommy thinks that way too!" "You do?" "Yes! Just yesterday I was telling my counselor that I was so happy with where our lives were and that I was so happy that I got to spend so much time with my girls and that I got to have just girls in my house. But, you know what? I told her that I felt like a bad person too." "You're not a bad person! Why would you think that?" I smiled and sighed and said, "For the same reason you think it makes you a bad daughter!" "Ohh...I see. We're not bad people, are we mommy?" "Amelia, do you remember what we talked about yesterday? How we needed to cry and be sad and move on and let it go?" "Yes." "Well, the feelings that we have right now are all part of that letting it go part! We can miss daddy if we want to. We can be sad that he died. But you know what? We can be happy to have just girls in our family. And we can be happy in our lives now. That just tells us that we are healing. That we're feeling better about things that happened and that we're going to be ok!" "That makes a lot of sense, mommy! So, it's OK that I like being a family of three?" "It's perfectly OK that you like being a family of three. You know what? I do too! No stinky boys!!" "Ha! You're right! No stinky boys! Well, until I marry my boyfriend at least..." "Yes, when you're forty." "Mommy!" We finished our "good nights" I tucked her into bed and I walked down the hallway to the living room and I cried. Tough stuff! And I honestly did JUST talk about this with my therapist. I am happy! I am in a place where I am happy. I have realized certain things about myself. I have changed. I have grown. And I am happy that we are a family of three. I'm happy that we get to make decisions about our future. I'm happy that there are things that I can try and put behind me. Do I get sad? Yup! My therapist made me cry just yesterday thinking about the loss of my husband. Saying those words out loud, and even typing them, send shivers down my spine and I get sad. Anger comes shortly after and those feelings of sadness dissipate, but all of those emotions are ok. For me and for Amelia, and maybe eventually for Emerson too. My celebrity boyfriend would have to be Kenny Chesney...with his hat ON. I love that man! I've been to a few of his concerts with my momma and he has to be my favorite. Other than the Seahawks I would probably choose to meet him. I love his songs. I love his voice. And he's not bad to look at either...with his hat ON. So, as I sat in the living room with tears running down my face thinking about the very grown up thoughts that my baby girl gets in her head sometimes, I decided to turn my iTunes on shuffle and the first song that started playing? Kenny Chesney's Better As A Memory. Yeah...what are the chances? So, I started crying a bit more, and then realized that this would be my blog post. I love the music, but even more I love the lyrics to songs. The meaning behind them and the way the words flow and what the words are saying...I'm sure that it's different for everyone. And maybe you are all looking at my interpretation of lyrics and thinking that I'm crazy. And maybe I am, but I'm the one writing the blog so I get to think what I want to, right? The last verse of this song struck me: Cause goodbyes are like a roulette wheel You never know where they're gonna land First you're spinning, then you're standing still Left holding a losing hand But one day you're gonna find someone And right away you'll know it's true That all of your seekin's done It's just a part of the passing through Right there in that moment You'll finally understand That I was better as a memory than as your man Better as a memory than as your man This is where we are right now! This is where I am! This is where Amelia is, I think. Brian was my husband and the father to my children. But now? I have come to realize that he is better as a memory. We are happy! We are getting over this! We are thriving even! Like I said, the roller coaster continues. We have tears that readily fall. We have more questions than answers. We have hard times and anger and fear and sadness. But today? Tonight? This week even? We are happy to be a family of three. We are happy to be a family of girls. That part in the song about "someday you're gonna find someone"? Maybe, but today at this moment that is not my end goal. I'm happy! I'm free to be my own person and make my own decisions and grow into the person that my Heavenly Father intended. We are happy with where God has chosen for us to be at this moment in time. So, better as a memory...and some days, not even there...

Let It Go

Blogging is hard. I know that there are many of you that have told me in the last couple weeks that you miss my blog posts. Well, I'm writing again today and I'm going to start off by whining a little bit apparently. Blogging is hard. Let me clarify that statement. For me, the act of writing the blog posts is not hard. I can do that in usually just a few minutes. I love to write and I always have. It is fairly easy for me to listen to my little daughters, come up with a plan for a blog post, type it out, and be done. That part is easy for me. It's all the preparation stuff around writing the actual post that is difficult for me. I'm not 100% sure, but I can almost bet that all of my readers have been through something. You've all experienced some sort of trauma...some sort of pain...some sort of rough patch in your lives. We all go through them. There is nothing special about me at all, other than the fact that I think I got my lifetime of trauma and pain and rough patch all in a tight span. But I'm not special or different in any way. We all have moments of loss. We all have moments of suffering. We've all lost loved ones. We've all had life plans abruptly interrupted. We've all had things that we were going through that weren't so easy. I imagine if you walked into a room filled with people, you would be able to find people who had been through something. Life is full of tough stuff! You all could be blogging too!! Like I said, I'm not special by any means. And even if I was, I'm not certain I would want to be special for these particular circumstances! Oops...it appears my undiagnosed ADHD has kicked in and I'm off topic a bit. Blogging is hard. HA! The hard part is knowing what to write. Knowing how much is too much. Wondering if I should bring that up in a public forum. Thinking about who I've told what to and what I might want to keep a secret. Weighing out who I wouldn't want reading certain things on here. Wondering where the line is for myself, and then factoring in the fact that I asked these same questions and think about the perspective of my children. Blogging is hard! On top of those questions, I also try and feel out for myself where I am in my process. I have been quite open with people, and with my blog, about the fact that I go to therapy. At one point I would have been highly ashamed of that whole process and would have been mortified to know that others knew about it. I had "weekly doctor appointments" forever. I'm sure people really knew what I was doing, but I was ashamed to admit that I couldn't handle it. That I couldn't hack it on my own. That I might be just a tad bit crazy :) I'm not crazy, I know that, but in my mind I was thinking that a diagnosis of depression or anxiety just as well might be a label of crazy. By the way, I feel strongly compelled to let you know that I have not been diagnosed as having depression or anxiety. I'm sure anyone would understand if I was, but I haven't been. I have done the best that I can, and there still is a stigma attached to those labels, even in my own head which is probably why I'm defending the fact that I'm not diagnosed. But the tie between therapy and blogging being hard? I'm still working through stuff in therapy. I know, it's been three years. Get over it! You should be done! Well, I've learned that this is a process and that everyone goes through it at their own pace. I'm happy with where I'm at right now for the most part. And maybe not happy with where I'm at so much as happy with where I'm not anymore...does that make sense? I have made so much progress and I'm really proud. So, working through stuff in therapy makes it hard also because then I'm not sure about therapy and blogging and what I should talk about here and what I need to think about more and...yeah...in case you didn't notice already I tend to overanalyze everything...always...so, this is why blogging is so hard! What probably goes from a super simple blog post about a conversation with my six-year-old or three-year-old becomes this huge thing where I over-process and overthink and then I get scared and decide it's just easier to not blog. And then let all three of my fans down!! :) So, blogging is hard! But, I have been working on this post for a while. The girls and I have been to see the movie Frozen three times and I am hooked! I grew up with Disney movies. I grew up wanting to be Belle and Aurora and Cinderella. I love Disney movies! And I love that my girls are starting to get into them as well. Every year for Halloween, they have picked a different Disney Princess for at least four years. It is so much fun having little girls! So, having little girls was also a great excuse to go and see the movie Frozen three times! It is a great movie! I've cried every single time I've gone to see it. I think it's because it's about sisters. And my sister and I have always been so close! Best friends! Inseparable. And then the stupid Navy happened and moved her away and it's been harder to keep in touch. Days get shorter and time flies by and I don't get to talk to her. We used to see each other every day. And then we'd at least Skype or Facetime every day. Pretty soon it was just phone calls sometimes. And then text messages at least at some point. Lately, through no fault of either one of us, it's fallen to texting a word or two here or there. So, when my sister was up here at Christmas, we took our kids and our parents to see the movie. It was great! I loved it! I cried! And I've wanted to go again since then, so my girls and I went for two weekends in a row. Everytime I watch it, I see my sister and me in the two sisters on the screen. We were so close! We did everything together. And I also see my two girls, who are also just as close. They are so loving, so caring, so much like my sister and me! And that makes me emotional also. And there's also this element to Elsa. I don't want to give away any of the movie in case you are going to get a chance to go see it, but Else has magic powers, and at one point in the movie she exiles herself from the kingdom. When she does, she begins singing this song called "Let It Go." If you haven't heard it, go to YouTube and look it up. It is a beautiful song. So, listen to it once just to take in what a beautiful song it is. And then listen to it again and listen to the words of the song. I am very connected to music. I always have been. I usually can't tell you very much in terms of my horrible memory of events, but I almost always can tell you what song was on the radio. I will always remember the songs that my grandpa would sing in the cornfield on those still summer days and will always remember his voice being carried on the breeze into my bedroom window and how I would smile and listen to him sing. I will always remember how when my first true love broke my heart I blasted Blink 182 all the way to work that morning and sobbed. I will never forget listening to Riddlin' Kids with my friends, heading to camping, and Tim almost breaking his head on my window from excessive head-banging. I'll never forget summers filled with Warped Tour or OzzFest. I'll always giggle when I think about that moment when Brian took my to our first concert together...seeing Kenny Rogers come out on that stage and knowing that my life as I knew it was over...haha! Music is so very important to me. So, Frozen is a great movie, but Let It Go is an amazing song and the lyrics, as cheesy as this is going to sound, speak to me. And they speak to Amelia as well. I have been thinking and singing and reading the lyrics to Let It Go since we watched the movie. Learning the words and singing the song and thinking about how it relates in my life. And I found out tonight that Amelia has been doing the same thing. "Mommy, just one more thing?" "What's up, honey?" "Well, I've been thinking a lot about Frozen and I think that I'm just like Elsa." "Oh really, honey? Why do you say that?" "Well, I don't have any special powers. I'm sure you've noticed, but I can't freeze anything with my hands..." "OH gee, really?" "Mommy! I'm being serious! But, I feel like there are things that I need to let go. You know that part in the song where she says, I couldn't keep it in, heaven knows I've tried?" "Yeah..." "Well, I think I'm a lot like you." "What do you mean, Amelia?" "Well, I see you start to cry all the time, but then you make yourself stop. And I know you do that for us. And I'm the same a little bit. I start to want to cry, but I make myself stop. For you and for Emerson." "We're all kind of silly, aren't we?" "Yeah...a little bit. We shouldn't keep it in, should we? We should cry and we should let people in and let people help us." "Yes, Amelia. We should! If there's something that you feel like you need from someone, or an emotion that you feel like you need to share, then please do that! You have to do that, or you will make yourself sick. Don't hold it back! We have to be willing to be sad and we have to be able to cry and grieve." "You're right mommy. So, do you think we can promise to help each other do that?" "I promise to cry when I need to cry! And to hold you when you need to cry..." "Then, I promise to do the same. We sure don't want Emerson to grow up to be like us, do we?" Laughing I said, "Well, in some ways, I hope she is exactly like you, but when it comes to crying and being free in her emotions, no...I don't want her to be like us. And I don't want us to be like us! We need to change too!" "I love you, mommy..." "I love you too, sweetheart!" And I walked down the hallway to the living room. We are tough. We are strong. And for some reason I have always had it in my head that we are tough and we are strong because we don't let people know that things are not ok. That there is a storm raging inside and that things are hard. I've gotten better. There are a few people that I cry to and vent to, but it is still so very hard for me to do, even with the people that I love and trust most. Crying and having emotion is so hard, but so necessary. I have written before about my seizures. There is a part of them that are stress-induced. My seizures get worse when I am stressed or worried or anxious. Stress can do awful things to a person! I have seen my hair go from dark brown to scattered strands of gray to a whole stripe of gray in no time at all. I have worried myself sick with stomach aches and pains. And then I developed seizures. Stress is awful and Amelia is right. I do get sad and weepy and I am very good at stopping it and shoving it down and moving on. There are times that it catches me at the worst times, for no apparent reason. And when it does, I usually pay for not dealing with it up to that point. So, Let It Go and the lyrics to this song are apparently just what Amelia and I have needed to help each other grieve. To help each other cry and process and move on. Search for the lyrics to this song. Wow, I'm bossy and giving you lots of homework tonight!! Sorry! :) There are two separate versions of the song. One which is sung by Idina Menzel for the movie. And another single version by Demi Lovato, which is almost the same, but contains a section that is just a little bit different. In the middle of the song is this part: It's funny how some distance makes everything seem small And the fears that once controlled me can't get to me at all Up here in the cold thin air I finally can breathe I know I left a life behind, but I'm too relieved to grieve This part! It is so true. 2010 was a horrible, awful year! And the time after that was rough also with healing and crying and fighting and therapy and all of the aftermath of everything that happened. And this is exactly how I feel now. In fact, I told my therapist this tonight in different words. I like where I am right now. I like my life. I like who I am and who I have become and who I am continuing to become. I can finally breathe! And I did leave a life behind. The image of my life that I once thought I would lead is shattered. I never in all of my dreaming of my future pictured that I would be a widowed, single mother. I didn't think that I would ever be a statistic. But, even though I know that that life is gone, that image is gone, the relief that I now feel is overwhelming and there are times that I'm too relieved to grieve! So, let it go! Grieve and feel and deal with the pain, but then let it go! Because life awaits! The future awaits! Let it go!

Can You Hear Me Now?

Monday nights at the Duncan house are ballet nights. Both of the girls are in ballet and tap, and last year Amelia added ballet to her list of classes. Emerson dances for an hour, and Amelia's lessons at the next hour and a half. They both love to dance and enjoy going to their lessons. Monday nights is also the night that I go to therapy, so this works out perfect for our schedule. Unfortunately after the girls are finished dancing, and I'm finished spilling my guts, we are all exhausted and starving and ready for home and homework and bath and bed. So, every Monday, after I'm done at counseling, I stop by Panera and pick up our dinner. We order the same thing every week and I'm looking forward to the day when it is just ready and waiting when I go into the restaurant to pick it up. It's become a fun tradition and something that I look forward to very much. I love sandwiches! They are my favorite and the Turkey Bacon Bravo and Tomato Basil Bread is delightful!! Emerson has been sick for the last few days so she did not dance tonight, but after therapy I stopped and picked up our Monday dinner and headed to the dance school to get Amelia. We were on our way home when Amelia asks, "Hey Mommy...what kind of cookie did you get me tonight?" Like I stated before, we pretty much always get the same thing, but the cookie usually varies. "Well, they didn't have any cookies left, and they also didn't have any apple juice left, so I didn't get any." Amelia lets out a little giggle in the back seat. "Hey, mommy...guess what? I just thought you said that we didn't get any cookies or any juice. So, what kind of cookie did you get us?" "They didn't have any cookies, Amelia. And they also didn't have any juice." "That is so weird! My hearing must be going! I swear that you said we didn't get any cookies or juice." I start to giggle in the front seat at my crazy girl. I look at her in the rear view mirror and smile, and she gives me a big grin back. "One more time, mommy. Let me clean my ears out a little. I think I must be going deaf because it sounded like you said that we didn't get cookies? Or juice?" "That's right! No cookies. No juice. No need for new ears!" She burst into fits of laughter. We made it home, ate dinner, and Emerson was too wiped out to even remember that we usually have cookies and juice, so no fight there. We finished up homework, jumped in the tub, washed hair, jumped out, got dressed, read books and I started in the tucking in process. I tucked Amelia in and knelt down next to her bed and gave her a kiss. I walked to the door and heard her "One more thing, mommy?" "What's that, Amelia?" "You know that I could really hear you when we were in the car, right?" "Yeah, I kinda figured that you could." "I was just teasing you, sort of." "What do you mean, sort of?" "Well, the first time I said it, I was really hoping I'd heard you wrong! But then when you didn't change your answer, I knew that I was doomed to not get a cookie or juice, but I was ok with that so instead of getting upset, I turned it into a joke!" "Well, thank you for not getting upset!" "You're welcome." "I love you. See you in the morning." "Hey mommy...one more thing?" I smiled and stepped back into the room. "What's up? "Wouldn't that be nice?" "What's that, sweetheart?" "Would it be nice if we only heard the things that we wanted to hear? If we never had to hear bad things like no more cookies or no more juice?" "That would be nice, wouldn't it? It's a crisis when there are no more cookies!" "Mommy, you're funny. But seriously, that broke my heart! And I was really hoping that I had just heard wrong." "I know. Maybe next time they'll bake more cookies!" "I hope so! Good night, mommy! I love you!" "I love you too!" and I walked down the hall to the living room. Wouldn't that be nice? What if only the positive things in life were revealed to us. What if there was no bad, no negative, no icky things that we had to hear. It seems so often anymore we are getting bad news. Someone has cancer. Someone has died. This person was in an accident. That person was assaulted. The wrongs of the world are piling up and there doesn't seem to be a day that goes by that someone isn't getting bad news. It is depressing and is sad. My heart hurts for people these days. There just isn't much good news. I went out for drinks with some friends the night of the blizzard of '14 and we were discussing students. Three out of four of us at the table that night were teachers, and it turned to our students. There are so many kids that are leading rough lives. We are given these children to love and teach and it is rough some days. They all have a backstory. They all have something they are fighting through at home. Single moms. Single dads. Siblings passed away. Depressed, angry children. CPS reports. No food in the house. Dirty clothes. No one to love them. Foster kids. It takes a toll on these poor, little babies, and on us as teachers. There are so many times where I get an e-mail from a teacher, or our learning specialist, or our special education teacher about needing to talk about this kid before I see them, or let me warn you about this meeting and what might come up. It's sad...heartbreaking! It's awful! I cry for these babies. I cry for these kids who are worried about going home to abusive parents, worried about if they're getting dinner that night, worried about so many things that they shouldn't have to be at such young ages. But, they do! And wouldn't it be nice if we could just say, "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right. Surely you didn't tell me that your mom left you in the night. Or, I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I don't think I heard that your little brother passed away." I wish it was just that I didn't hear right. Or that I needed to clean out my ears. This is also certainly true for my own life. Isn't is sad that the most devastating events in your life are always the ones that you remember so clearly. I will never forget standing in my kitchen when I got the call about Brian that night. I will never forget being on the phone with my mom when she called to tell me to hurry home...that my grandpa was very sick and wasn't going to make it much longer, and then when she called back just a few minutes later to tell me he was gone. I can remember the way it felt like there was a knife in my chest when I stood in front of my daddy and heard he had cancer. The hair still stands up on the back of my neck when I remember driving down the road towards home and seeing my grandmother's house engulfed in flames. The worst news sticks with you. If only it were as easy as just saying, "I'm sorry. I need to clean my ears. That can't be what you said." But, that's not the way it works. We are faced with sad, daunting news every day. But, it is so important to hear those words at the same time. Hear clearly what is going on, process it, and move forward into the next phase of life. Hear the words so that you can start on the plan to survive to the next morning. Embrace the change, listen to what you are being told, readjust, and move forward. Is it really that easy? Nope! There were many times when people were talking and I wanted to plug my ears and yell "La la la la la" at the top of my lungs so I couldn't hear what they were saying to me. Looking back, I feel truly blessed because in those moments when that would have been easier, God gave me the strength to listen, take it all in, plan, and move forward with each step that I was faced with. Sure, I fell apart later! I'm still falling apart some days, but I'm still making progress. I'm still planning and moving forward to each new phase. And there are days that I say, "Wait, I swear you said this, but I'm thinking I'm wrong." only to find out heard correctly. One saying that I found and kept around when I was going through hard times was "God didn't promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, nor sun without rain. But He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way." So powerful! Some days, it's hard to not question the master plan of life. What exactly was He thinking for our future when he took my husband and the father of my children from us? I feel like I have gotten my answers over the years, but some days I still wonder that. And then I look for the strength that he blesses me with and I move forward, trying to complete the new path, the new plan that He has for us. As nice as it would be to be able to block out all of the icky things that we are presented with each day, just remember, if you can't hear the bad things, you're missing the good things too! Amelia could have blocked out hearing that there were no cookies, but she might has missed that I got her bread (her other favorite thing at Panera) instead. And I could have blocked out hearing that Brian was gone, but I would have missed all the amazing messages of love and hope from the people around us. So, listen! Take it all in! Be sad and cry for the bad, but always know that good is just around the corner!

Moles or Mountain Goats?

According to my "post count" on this blog, this is my 63rd blog post on Just One More Thing Mommy...sixty-three posts is a lot of posts! And I know that I have covered a wide range of things. Football, death, work, children, my weight...there isn't typically anything that is off limits. There are some things that I keep locked away in my heart and I flirt with sharing them here on my blog. But there are always two questions that I try and ask as I'm typing these posts. Number 1: Is the topic I'm writing about going to be able to lead into any sort of lesson that I can learn, and in turn pass on to my readers and Number 2: Once I hit publish on the post, is it something that could potentially cause damage to my children. Early on in my blogging life with this blog, I was criticized for posting stories that Amelia and Emerson were sharing with me. I was reminded that my children were trusting me with conversations and that I was in turn posting them on the internet for all to read and that they would eventually resent me and not trust me to talk to me. And although I dismissed some of those reminders, the general theme of them stayed true to me. What if those people were right? What if my girls grew up and read my blog and hated me for sharing such personal information on the blog. What if Amelia would like to grow up without anyone knowing that she has sensory issues? But then I thought, I wish people knew that I do too! In fact, I'm pretty vocal with people about things I can't stand. Repetitive noises, mushy foods, certain textures, people standing behind me...What if the girls didn't want people to read about their conversations with me about death and their father? So, I have been very careful to make sure that the two questions I ask lead to an answer I can live with. And, if the answers that are presented are not something I can live with, then I quickly move to the next topic on my list. Having two children, I am pretty much guaranteed at least one good just one more thing moment that will lead to a great reminder for myself, or a great lesson to my readers. Tonight, as I made the rounds, I tucked my sick littlest one into bed. Her parting words to me were, "Mommy, please let me go to school tomorrow. It's pajama day and I want to wear my jammies to school." I smiled and told her to get a good night's rest and we'd see in the morning. I walked to Miss Amelia's room and started getting her tucked in. I kissed her goodnight and turned to walk out of her room when she made a statement. The words rang in my ears and I froze where I was. I slowly turned to look at her and tried to act as neutral as I could. "What did you say?" And this is where I'm going to pause the conversation and look at my two questions. The answer to question number one is a yes. There is a lesson here that I would like to convey to my readers. There is a tie-in to my daily life, and to the lives of most of the people reading my blog. In fact I've written and re-written my opening paragraph to my post tonight, just because I know that this topic is important to cover. But, my answer to number two? Not so clear. My children are my priority. The angst that this is causing me should probably be enough to close the book and say, "Nope, it's not worth it." And this is most likely where this post is going to stop. I'm not brave enough to do it. I'm not brave enough to talk about my six-year-old's one more thing moment. Tonight, as I spun around to look at my little girl, I tried to stay even-keeled. I tried not to react to the phrase she had just stated. And, just for the record, she didn't say anything wrong, or naughty. She made a statement that many of us use daily, or at least weekly. But, it was shocking to me, and it knocked the stuffing right out of me. I didn't know what to say to her other than to fight the tears that were welling up in my eyes and to move on. Tell her how much I love her and that I'm proud of her always and that I'm always here for her no matter what. Tell her that she can talk to me about, and tell me anything. Hug her and hold her and stop my reaction from making a mountain out of a molehill. I am stressed to the max. I have a million things I need to do at work. I forget sometimes how to say no so I am stretched super thin right now. I have what seems like hundreds of reports to write, and the meetings to back those up. And when I'm stressed at work, it by nature spills into our home. I'm cranky at the kids sometimes. I snap at them. I tend to yell more that I ever do. I over-react the things that shouldn't be a big deal. And I'm sure if I were brave enough to finish this story, many of you would scratch your head and think, "Really? She's creating drama over this?" But when I'm stressed and when it involves my children, and when you think about the history that we may have, it all becomes a huge, yucky mess. And I am in momma bear mode because my blog will not be the way that my children find things out. My writings here will not become playground fodder for some mean kid to eventually pick on Amelia or Emerson about something. This will not be the forum where rather than dealing with the tough stuff with my girls face to face, they can google me and find their backstory. One day, in a time a long time from now I hope, I can reveal to you the sentence that came out of my baby's mouth. In the meantime, hold your children. Hug them. Protect them. And shelter them for as long as you can. I never wanted my children to be "those children" where they were expected to grow up way before their time, and I've done my best to try and make that not happen. But you can't survive the things that my tough girls have survived and not have a different sense of maturity than many of their classmates and the people they are with do. I know that when I'm stressed, I over-react. Not just with my children, but also with how hard I am on myself. These times, when I'm already spinning my wheels and running around like a chicken with her head cut of, is when I start to feed into my self-doubt and my guilt. I should have done more. I should have protected them better. I should have shielded them from what they had to go through. And even though I know that there was nothing I could have done, no way I could have known where our path would lead, it doesn't make the hate and anger towards myself go away. I'm stressed. I'm tired. I don't feel well. And it's all starting to add up and take it's toll. But you know what? I may be making a mountain out of a molehill. But I've also gotten pretty darn good at climbing those mountains.

You're Beautiful, It's True

My previous blog, if any of you followed me before I started one more thing mommy, was on...well, I think I'm not 100% sure what it was on. I wanted it to be on my new and improved life. In fact, I called it a New Year to a New Me, I think. I tried to post everyday about how healthy I was and how awesome I was eating and how much weight I had lost. And I did OK with that for a while. But, I think that part of me threw that together to force myself to feel like everything was all better. If I could show people, or even myself, that I was together enough to be healthy and actually lose weight during what was some of the most stressful times of my life, then I could prove to everyone how strong I was, or maybe just even how OK I was. It has taken me a long time to be able to reflect back and actually admit to myself that I was strong. I am strong. The things that my daughters and I went through in the last few years is not something that I would wish on anyone, but we did it. We went through it. And there were definitely moments (and I'm using the term moments loosely here because that could be minutes, or it could be months) where I wasn't strong. Where I wanted to curl into a ball in the corner and pull the blankets over my head and disappear forever. Where I felt like the world would be a better place if I just ceased to exist, if I could lead my quiet existence in my home with my children and disappear into the everyday. But, that didn't seem like an option either, so I started my other blog. And I blogged about losing weight and cooking amazing dinners and all the daily, mundane things that I happened to blog about. And it was profound in the sense that for a while, for a few sentences every night, I could be just that. I could mundane. I could be a mommy blogger, talking about the perfect mixture of ground turkey for turkey burgers, or how I was stressed out and ate a cupcake. And, oh, by the way, I'm losing weight. I, the stress eater, was losing weight in a time where what really sounded good was binge eating Big Macs and Whoppers and Midnight Truffle Blizzards. So, for a few sentences, I got to pretend that I was mundane. And I could ignore the story that was between the lines. I could imagine that none of that other stuff ever happened because seriously, what would people rather read about? That I made the perfect turkey burger and lost five pounds or that I was a crying, depressed mess lost in a world that I didn't fit into anymore. And I failed. Miserably. I couldn't keep the façade going. I couldn't go on pretending that all was OK and I was getting healthy and I was kicking ass with this thing called life. I was pretending I was conquering everything, when really, inside, I was only conquering myself, and not in a good way. While I was losing weight and feeling good, I was slowly dying inside being in denial about everything. I was FINE! We were FINE! Everything was FINE! But it really wasn't. So, I took time to make sure it really was fine, that I really was in a good place and then I could worry about turkey burgers and losing weight. So, now I feel like I'm to that point. And I'm not sharing my weight loss journey as opening as I was on my previous blog. Although I appreciate the good wishes and the support from people, it needs to be a journey that I take for myself, at my own pace. So, that's what I'm doing. After a few months of being very happy while eating everything in sight, I have started back on track and will take my time in getting to where I need to be going. I have a lot of factors playing into this journey this time around. I am mentally, emotionally, and spiritually in a very different place. I have a few different priorities in mind. I have some physical health things that may impact this round. And my expectations are a little bit different. I have been doing well with eating and counting points (I'm sticking with WeightWatchers because that is the system I know and love) for a week now, and I will say that my first weigh in this morning showed me 5.2 pounds lighter than last week, which was amazing! And just the first few baby steps to where I need to end up, but it's the journey not the destination, right? So, I will take it week by week, and I will have that Whopper if I want it, or the Midnight Truffle Blizzard. Amelia has been very invested in this. She and I have talked many times about my weight, how I feel about it, how I might need help, or reminders. It's a hard balance between wanting to be honest with my little girl about my feelings and letting her know that those feelings are OK, and the media that inundates us with reminders about body image and not letting our little girls grow up with negative feelings. It's hard as a fat mom. Yup...I said fat. And as many times as Dove wants to tell me that I'm beautiful or there's more to me that my weight, when I look in the mirror, there isn't any amount of positive self-talk that is going to change the roly-poly face I see looking back. And although I never want my beautiful little girls to think poorly of themselves, I also want to share the feelings that I have about being heavy, about being fat, because I don't want them to go through the same things that I have. I don't want them to be teased and picked on. I don't want them to have trouble walking or breathing. I don't want them to be unhealthy and have troubles with simple daily activities. I don't want them to get to the point where they are the first to crack a joke about being fat because you have to beat someone else to the punch to save face. Amelia and I were laying in bed together tonight, snuggling to get warm for the cold snowy air. She asked me how many pounds I lost and I told her. She held out her hand for a high-five and said, "That's what I'm talking about! I'm so proud of you!" I smiled and thanked her and then said, "What if I hadn't lost five pounds?" "What do you mean, mommy?" "What if I didn't do it. What if I hadn't lost five pounds?" "Well, I'd tell you that you'll get it next time and that I still love you. Because you are more to me than a number on the scale, mommy. I'd be proud of you if you didn't ever lose a single pound. I know that you want to, and I'll help you any way that I can, but you will always be my mommy, no matter what and you're beautiful, no matter what!" With tears in my eyes, I pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. I love my little girls, and they love me. Amelia's words to me ring true, and I will hold them close to my heart. Because the accolades and praise of my six-year-old are better than any commercial anyone could ever make.

Put Your Own Mask on First

I am a people pleaser. My whole life I have done things for the sole purpose of making sure that everyone around me was happy. I almost always listened to my parents and did what I was told. I also helped my sister clean up a lot of her messes too! Why? Because I wanted to make sure that my parents were happy with us and proud of us. I was a 4.0 student most of my life. I studied hard and worked my tail off to get the best GPA, the highest honors, the most awards. Why? I wanted my parents and my teachers to be happy with me. At work, I feel like I go above and beyond at times, and volunteer to do a lot of things that are not in my job description, or things that don't fit into my schedule. Why? I want to look have people feel like I'm a team player and I want to keep my bosses and colleagues happy. When I was married, I worked very hard to maintain peace in the house, making sure that everything was running smoothly and that there was no hate and discontent between anyone, or anything. Why? I wanted to make sure that Brian was happy. Over the years, and with the help of a lot of therapy (Ha!) I have learned that I am a people pleaser, and that isn't necessarily a good thing. You may be asking yourself, "How could wanting others to be happy be a bad thing?" Well, it's not a bad thing necessarily. But, when others' happiness comes at the expense of your own, it becomes a bad thing. I got so wrapped up in the feelings of other people around me, that I forgot to check in with myself and see how I was feeling. I was so worried with making my parents happy, and my friends happy, and my kids happy, and my coworkers happy, and my husband happy, and my bosses happy, and everyone else in my life happy, I was smothering myself. I wasn't happy. I looked happy! Everyone thought I was happy. I wasn't happy. I was stressed and tired and in a constant state of paranoia that I was ruining life for someone else. My missteps were causing someone else sadness or discomfort or pain and that wasn't ok. So, my next mission would be going above and beyond to fix whatever mess I had caused, to make things right in the world again, no matter how it made me feel. I was miserable. I have lots of opportunities to observe my six year old, and I am truly sad to say that she is a people pleaser also, and in the extreme sense that she is following in her mother's footsteps. I have watched her many times sacrifice her own happiness to make someone else happy. Whether it be me, or Emerson, or someone outside of our home. And tonight's just one more thing mommy moment highlights this perfectly. Last year for Valentine's Day, I bought Amelia a giant stuffed cow. She loves cows, and collects cows, and wants a cow, so this giant cow was the perfect gift for her. She loves this cow and usually uses it as her pillow. A few weeks ago, she left him in my bed, and I agree that he is an amazing pillow because since he was left behind, I've been using his soft, fluffy head as part of my pillow arrangement as well. The girls slept in my bed with me this past weekend and as Amelia was switching back to her bed last night, I watched as she carried the cow to her bed. Without thinking, I stammered, "Umm...are you taking your cow back to your bed?" "Umm...yes..." "Huh..." "What?" "Oh, nothing. I'm sure going to miss him." She wrinkled her nose at me, and rolled her eyes and said, "You sleep with him?" "Well, he's so soft! I've been sleeping on him, but he's YOUR cow, so you should sleep with him." She continued walking to her room, I tucked her in as we discussed football with each other and that was that. Or so I thought. Tonight, as I'm tucking Amelia into bed, she bows her head like she usually does when something is weighing on her mind. "What's wrong, Amelia?" "Mommy, I want you to have my cow back." "Why?" "Because, you were using him and I took him away from you!" "Amelia, don't be silly! I don't want him. I have my pillows and I'm fine! You keep him." "No, mommy...I insist!" "Uh, no, Amelia. Keep the cow!" "OK..." I kissed her goodnight and headed to Emerson's room to tuck her in. After I was done, I caught sight of Amelia running towards her room out of the corner of my eye. "Um, Amelia?" "Yes?" "Kid, if that cow is in my bed, I'm going to be upset with you!" "But, mommy! I want you to have him! I don't want him!" "You don't even have a pillow on your bed!" I cried as I walked into my room to find the cow thrown into my spot on the bed. I picked him up and tucked him under my arm, and grabbed her hand and led her back to her room. I placed the pillow at the head of her bed, tucked her in once more, and knelt down beside her bed. "Amelia, I need to talk to you about something." "What?" "You're a people pleaser." "What?" "You're a people pleaser. You want to do things for other people to make them happy and that's a wonderful thing, but you have to start doing things for yourself! You were going to give away your cow to me, even thought you don't have a pillow on your bed and you need him, and that's not right!" "Why? If you are happy, I'm happy!" "That's not good either, La!" "It isn't?" "Well, it is, but you can't base your happiness off of someone else! You have to be happy for you! If you don't take care of yourself and be happy for yourself, it's just like not putting your own mask on first in an emergency on an airplane!" "What emergency? There can be emergencies?" As soon as the words left my mouth, although an amazing analogy, I immediately regretted what I had said, especially in the throes of a trip planning that may involve a flight to California to see a certain someone I miss more than anything in the world. But, it was too late to take it back, so I spent the next twenty minutes explaining to Amelia that yes, planes can have emergencies, no I've never been on a plane that has had an emergency, and then explaining the procedure for what to do if the masks fall down in front of you. You know what I'm talking about, right? The flight attendant always tells you that if cabin pressure is lost, and the masks fall down in front of you that passengers with small children needing assistance should first make sure to put your own mask on first, and then assist those around you. "Why would you do that!? You want me to die?" "No, Amelia. If I put my mask on first, then I will stay alive and ok long enough to help you out. If I didn't put my mask on first, and we all got in trouble, that would been silly. It's the same way with day to day life. If we are always making sure that everyone around us is happy first, there won't be enough time or energy or love or happiness for us to be happy. And that's not how it should be! We need to take care of ourselves first. Make it so we are happy and healthy and can be around a while and THEN help others be happy. So, for example, with your cow. You want the cow? You want to sleep with the cow? Then you should keep the cow. Because if you give me the cow, you are not happy, and now you have no cow to keep you warm and cozy and help you sleep at night. And then I'm happy because you gave me your cow, but you are grumpy and tired and missing a cow. You have to put your own mask on first. Take care of yourself, and let others take care of themselves. Do you understand?" "Yes. I understand. But thinking about all of this talk about cows makes me want to giggle a little. And all I can see in my head is putting masks on cows and boy, do they look funny! So, I can't do nice things for people?" "Of course you can do nice things for people! It makes us feel good when we do nice things for people, and I want you to still be a nice, kind, loving little girl. But I don't want you to sacrifice your own happiness to make someone else happy. Try and do things that make you AND the other person happy! Get it?" "Yup! I do! Mommy, will you be ok without the cow tonight?" "I think I'll survive, Amelia! And if not, I can always go to the playroom and get Emerson's frog that I bought her." "Oh, mommy...don't be ridiculous! The frog will never be as good as the cow." "You're probably right, Amelia! I love you!" "I love you too, Mommy." I turned to walk down the hallway and I hear, "Mommy, please just one more thing?" "One more thing, Amelia." "Don't forget to put YOUR own mask on first! I want you to be happy too!" "Thanks for the reminder, La. How about we remind each other to do this? Sound good?" "Sounds good! I love you, Mommy!" I love our conversations with each other. She is such a wise soul and there are many things that I talk about with her that make me grateful to have her as my daughter. But, this is a call to you all also. Are you putting your own mask on first? Are you sacrificing your own happiness for someone else's? Too many times throughout life I was an anxious mess, worried that I was disappointing someone, or that someone wouldn't like me, or someone wasn't getting their way. Too many times, I stretched myself amazingly thin, worrying about adjusting everything to make it a favorable outcome for someone else. Too many times I was stretching and bending myself to the point of snapping so that someone else would stay cool and calm. And I still do this at times. I still find myself making choices that are not in my best interest. But then, I dig down and find my strength and know that I am bigger than this. That I deserve better than this. That my happiness is crucial to surviving the day to day dealings, and also the trauma that we have faced. If I'm not taking care of myself, then not only do I suffer, but my children suffer too. If I'm truly taking care of my family, then I need to do what's best for me in all situations. I can't please everyone, and I have finally learned that I need to please me in order to grow and thrive in this world. I need to put my own mask on first! So, how about you? Are you putting YOUR mask on first? If you're not, you should be!

43-8!

I am emotionally drained. Anyone who has read my blog posts for any amount of time knows that football is very important to me. I love my Seahawks and have for some time. I have watched years of losing records. I have watched years of getting sooo close, and then losing it. I have watched years of hype and high hopes and having those dreams fall flat. So, making it to the Super Bowl was a big deal. This morning when I woke up, all I could think about was the last time we made it and what a fiasco that was. And then I started to get nervous. I was grumpy. My heart was racing. I was crying over every little thing. I was irritated with things that typically don't bother me. But this was a big deal! I had watched this young, amazing team for an entire season and I knew that we were a big deal. I knew that we were going to win! I knew it in my heart. I just had the doubt in the back of my head. I wasn't sure. So many seasons of sadness and disappointment. What if this one ended badly also? So, when we got the safety in the first fifteen seconds of the game, and then we scored touchdown after touchdown after touchdown. We had interceptions and fieldgoals and defensive touchdowns. We had an offense that looked like they knew what they were doing. Soon my anxiety and my distress turned to happiness...joy...my faith in my team was restored. The game ended with the amazing score and I was overjoyed! Tears flowed freely. I was happy, sad, elated, proud...all of those feelings rolled into one. And although I think that I would be fairly good at breaking down all the points of the game and analyzing all of the plays (because I really do know a lot about football, especially Seahawks football) that isn't really the purpose of my blog. My blog is about mushy stuff. Real life things that impact me, and then the life lesson tied in. Many of you know that my love of football came from my grandfather. So, when the Seahawks won today, my first thoughts were of him, cheering and celebrating from heaven this evening! He would have loved today! There isn't a game that I don't walk into that stadium in Seattle, or tune in from my living room at home, and think about him. He would be going crazy in his black leather rocking chair, with his football-shaped cup holder, and his beer stine filled with Hamms. I have my grandpa's rocker, so that's where I spent my evening, curled up watching highlights of the game, and interviews of the players. And tears fell. Then, my thoughts turned to my husband. I bought the season tickets for him our first Christmas together. We were on the waitlist for two years and then got our tickets. We went to a couple games together, and then I was pregnant and he wanted to take other people with him. So I stayed home. And then I had babies and he wanted to take other people with him. So I stayed home. And then...I'm not sure what the excuses were, but I stayed home. The 2010 season, Brian and I went to one game together. It was the best date that we had ever been on! It was September and a gorgeous day. We sat upstairs on the ferry and drank beer together. We laughed and cried and talked about our future. We made plans and talked about how lucky we were. It was great! And then my world unraveled just three short weeks later. So, tonight when the Seahawks won, I thought of Brian. I thought of that last date that we had together, and I also thought about all the games I didn't attend. And tears fell. I thought about the 2010 season when I panicked after Brian died and I sold all my tickets on Facebook. And how with each pair of tickets I sold, a little piece of me mourned. My life had changed so much in such a short time, and the one thing that I enjoyed was going away. And so many friends bought them, and ended up taking me. And I thought of all the people that helped me through. And how lucky I am to have all of them. And tears fell. And I thought about my Kristi! Right before Brian died, my sister moved to Oregon, and I felt like I didn't have anyone. I was alone, and sad, and then the whole mess with Brian happened, and this girl that I didn't even really know walked into my life. She grabbed my hand, and offered me her shoulder, and bolstered me up when I was at my saddest and my weakest. She bought a pair of my tickets that year, the ones for my birthday weekend, and she took me with her. We had the best time ever, and we haven't been apart since. Kristi started off as a stranger to me, then as the girl who bought my tickets, then as my football partner, and now she means more to me than anyone will ever know. Football is so much more to me than sitting in the stands and watching the players. It's the having to get our same parking spaces. Getting coffee and adding in bonus fun. Following the same routines before the game starts. Being in our seats to watch the pre-game fanfare. Sitting in the same seats. Wearing the same things. Waiting until the stadium is empty to leave. Long chats on the ferry. So many parts of the football experience mean so much to me. And there isn't anyone I would rather do all of this with than her. She is my best friend forever, and I am so lucky that I have found someone to share that with! So, I started thinking about the friendship that I have formed with her, and how much fun we have at football, and how there are six more months until football starts again. And tears fell. These players have meant so much to me as a fan, and I know that there are a million other 12s that feel the same way. Our run with these players, our run with this team, started off in a way that I would have never believed! We "know" these players. They are like our family. I got to meet Golden Tate and Richard Sherman. And then, I got to go to a cocktail party with Richard Sherman and be there for the kickoff of his Blanket Coverage charity. I watched these players bond while playing softball with each other at Richard's charity softball event. I went to training camp and got to meet Jermaine Kearse and Earl Thomas and get their autographs. I got Richard Sherman's autograph on his Sports Illustrated cover. I've been to every home game for the last two years and I have gotten to witness this team come together and grow and become the Super Bowl champions that they proved themselves to be. I am proud that I have been a Seahawks fan for a long time, and I am proud that I stuck around to see this, to be a witness to the greatness that these players are! And tears fell. As I said at the beginning, I am emotionally drained! I am exhausted to the point that I just can't sleep! I'm proud of our Seahawks! I'm proud to be a 12! I'm proud of our season, and the support that our team gives our city! And I can't wait to see where this ride takes us next season! Hmm...I think I'll go and book my hotel for Arizona! Super Bowl 2015!!